#per chara study

[fukashiin]

a whit of hope — housewardens

❥ twinkling stars, luminescent fairy lights, and a stuffed plushie that sits in silence.

In which you weep in agony in the wake of your mind telling you that you may not be able to ever return to your beloved world that you hold so closely to your heart.

Your quivering soul is ever so grateful that you have the housewardens from the respective dorms to kiss your tears away.

cw: gn reader, self-deprecation, hints of depression, very inconsistent writing style + half beta read

wc: 8k (1000-1530 per chara.)

implied book 3 and 6 spoilers for azul's and idia's piece

Your ears take in the pitter-patter of the rain that resounds outside of Ramshackle dorm. You disassociate into the rather sentimental ambience of the room that you've become familiar with in a matter of time. The stars look particularly brighter tonight, you thought. But is that really something to be happy about at this moment?

Your teary eyes directs to your jagged study desk, with jumbled notebooks that sit open as they washed in the moon's accompanying light that would falter in certain moments. It feels utterly cold, your mind wanders. Your knuckle-swollen hands clutches the wrinkled bedsheets as the semi-busted lamp in your room flickers. You feel yourself looking vacantly at the pent-up vest that hung atop the wardrobe's knob.

You've lost count. How many months, years has it been since your existence from your home world faded into nothingness completely? You wanted to reject reality, smash it into fragments, shout out your thoughts that's been a burden weighing on your shoulders until your body gives in a shuts down.

You gave your word to the headmaster in a heartbeat, that you'd promise to take diligent supervision over Grim until he discovers a way back to the place where your entire being stays loyally rooted to. Your subconscious would always surpress the raging urge to click your tongue bitterly once he resorts to tomfoolery when asked if he has made the necessary arrangements to send you back. The swirling feeling of hatred that stills in your stomach makes you oh-so desperate to just double-over and vomit.

Why? Nobody understands. Not even you have a single clue to why that crow was so stubbornly adamant on keeping you here in an alternate world where you didn't even sense a relevant belonging in. Why, why, why? Teeth clenched, you feel the stars looking down before you as they laugh at your devastated state in mockery.

These deadly thoughts tore your mind to shreds. Will anyone even remember me? What if there's no way to actually return and I'll just have to keep surviving? What if they think I'm just dead by now?

You break. Mentally and physically.

Sight going red, your eyes dart around the dim-lit room to look for something suitable for your—supposed disappearance. You were nearly at your limit. But at the very same time, you were still fortunate enough to have even a microscopic sliver of hope floating in your chest. You heaved a sigh, as you look down at the floor beneath you.

With that, not even the tears could hold itself back anymore. You weep, cry, and beg. Wails getting louder as it echoes hauntingly throughout the room. The sound of your prolonged grief, will ever be rivalled to the roaring waves of the sea.

Until you sense another being approaching closer to your state.

Riddle Rosehearts

"I was wondering who could've been up at 1am in the morning to make such noises," You hear Riddle's muffled, fatigued voice outside of the door that leads straight to your room. He surely must've been off-ing heads left and right, with the swift movement of his magical pen.

You—immediately—to not be heard—seize the pillow by your side to shove your face in, in high hopes that your cries wouldn't be overheard by another living being. Especially Heartslabyul's queen, whose job is to enforce his disciplinary onto those unruly residents who makes zero effort to act in accordance upon the tyrannical rules that were upheld.

Riddle takes your suspicious silence to creak the door open, "Prefect," he lets himself in, "Why are you not in bed yet? And—where is that flaming cat of yours? Isn't he supposed to be with you?"

"In addition.." he thought his eyes were playing a prank on him. Could someone ever be this disorderly? That could compete with a certain two in his dorm for the award-winning prize of the most unmanageable student there is in all of Night Raven College? "What happened to your room?! It's in absolute disarray!"

He, at once, halted his comments as his gaze flickered at your hunched-over figure. Hugging the pillow in a deathly grip, you avoid his eyes as much as you possibly could. Oh, how much of a fool you were to believe that he didn't catch the way you guarded your body as your arms squeeze around the item impossibly tighter.

The dejected state you were in, unknowingly shot a hole through Riddle's heart. Cruel, unforgiving.

Silence quickly dominated the room. To put it simply, Riddle was at an unfortunate lost for words. Have you been crying this whole time without telling a single soul? Why were the velvet strings that were tugging at his heart convulse so violently, as if he was acquainted with the fact of how much of an impact you have made on him after the incident that he was longing to forget? He looks at the way an unforeseen tear drops at the corner of your bloodshot eyes, as it streams down to your chapped lips, decorated ugly in fissured cracks.

He didn't know. He couldn't grasp how his anger turned into sympathy in a matter of seconds. Queries raced through his mind alarmingly. Was it Ace and Deuce again? What exactly was so misfortunate for the uptight prefect that it was able to bring them down to their knees? But you were unaware of a heavily harboured feeling in his heart, an unfamiliar sense of protection that strayed within.

"Who..." Riddle is cautious. He takes a few steps towards you, carefully—as if you're made of some sort of pottery that has been precisely sculptured—but not for this world, since he fears you might back away from his fuming presence, "Who is responsible for this?"

This triggers your fight-or-flight response. You cower away from the redhead apprehensively, scooting closer to the headboard of your bed as your eyes fall shut. What is he possibly planning to do? You couldn't fathom what Riddle's thoughts were at the moment. "Look, I know I stayed up past bedtime but!—"

You feel a certain warmth caress your tear-stained cheeks. "No." 

It was..Riddle? But still, you're scared to open your eyes. You're afraid that he might cast out his magic in a millisecond, using the deceitful look of pity on his face as a chance to discipline you correspondingly. "...I don't care about that."

You peaked a glance at Riddle, slowly opening your left eye, stiff as ever. You wanted to continue your depressive episode, but for an entirely different reason now.

Why was his warmth so comforting? Why isn't he saying anything more than his signature line? Why do you find the utmost solace lingering in your heart when he wipes your tears away? The Riddle Rosehearts, doing all of this to Ramshackle's prefect, that has stooped so low behind everyone's absence?

You decided to disassemble the safety guards that's been shielding your heart, and let your feelings fall free.

"I...I apologise for staying awake till now,’ you gasped through your sobs, “And...how you’re seeing this side of me.” Your icy-cold hands take ahold of his that stroked your cheek gently, in an attempt to calm you down from whatever has been troubling you. You’ve never seen him so caring before. It’s like whoever up there, that you were hopelessly praying to above, heard your pleas and sent the perfect angel down your way to mend your heart. 

He didn't want to care about study guides anymore. The sheer will power that reflected in his eyes, only goes to show he isn't afraid to let down the sky-high expectations that were carved into his very being.

“You surely speak of nonsense when your mind is not in the right place.” He awkwardly crouches down to your level, meeting eye-to-eye, as he hesitantly cups his palms around your cheeks. You yourself were aware that this, of all times, was definitely not the moment you should be stifling a laugh. From his tousled hair, his blazing hot cheeks where bloomed a rosy-pink shade and his neat pajamas that look like they’ve just been freshly ironed head to toe.

“I am not the most amiable when it comes to the language of comfort,” he whispers, soft and low, with his lips inches away from yours. “But I know very well that someone who suffers daily with a number of three rowdy raccoons on their tail shouldn’t be suffering alone. ..I guess, I myself am familiar with that feeling, somehow.” He casts his eyes down towards the ground in shame, and back up to your face.

“P..Please, tell me if I do something out of your liking.” stated firmly, his face closed towards yours, palms still resting on both sides of your cheeks, as he gives them butterfly-light kisses that linger for a few seconds. His eyes scan your reactions after pulling away and diving right back in, but you’ve never felt your heart being filled to the brim with overflowing affection in your entire lifetime.

“Now,” you see Riddle, the regular Riddle, stand tall and direct his attention on the door entry. “I’m going to search for that gremlin of yours. It’s immediately off with his head once I find him after abandoning his oh-very precious owner.”

Leona Kingscholar

“Ah, seriously...” You jolt upwards, with your hair standing on end as a husky voice rings through your ears. “I came here to relax cause’ all the guys in Savanaclaw are causing sucha’ ruckus and my ears are sensitive,” gulping mentally, your frame becomes smaller as your rough hands hurriedly wipe the tears off your face, moments away before Leona nudges the door open with his foot,

 “And what do I find but a certain herbivore wailing like a baby in the crib in the middle of the night?”

“Leona...” The everlasting feeling of frustration numbed on your tongue, tears growing hotter at the eyesore of a situation that unfolded in front of your eyes. You punch your pillow, hoping to get a blow out of it. Does he even know how your nightly problems shouldn't concern him in the slightest? Why send Leona—a prince—someone who's been living under the dignified curtains of royalty for generations since the time of his birth to come to your aid? 

You’re angry, frustrated, infuriated—a swirl of emotions numbed in your stomach. You just wanted to go back to your own world.

You would rather drop dead, eyes sore as tears seep under the sparkling moonlight continuously with no end, than to have an actual prince comfort you. You would feel like none less of an undeserved peasant.

But your stubborn front only masks the tears that fall behind. You're uncertain how much longer you could keep up your facade before the black filth that fills your body consumes you whole.

His slothful nature remains as he stays glued to the ground, his eyes boring into yours.

“...This is causing me a headache too, you know that?” Scratching his head, Leona trudges towards your bed, steps heavy from endless exhaustion, as he sits down and lays his head in your lap. A dry gasp emitted from you sore throat as you raise your arms in defence. He lets out his laugh, throaty and chock-full of overwhelming pride as his stare burns into your face from underneath.

“I don’t wanna see you bawling your eyes out like that,” met by a glowing set of emerald eyes-one that is stripped off of its usual arrogance and is replaced by a sheen of gold, shining tenderness. Leona rests his hands above yours and enwraps it in a slight squeeze, hoping that his message of hospitality travels to your deadly cold corpse.

Your body is going to break. Mind smashed by the ruthless hammer of reality, breaths quickened as you process the scene before you.

“Tear your heart out, yell at the top of your lungs, shout at the whole world how much you hate everyone,” he rambles on, lips moving tenderly in each second against the misty air, and you get the gist of what he’s trying to convey.

“But just don’t bottle it all up. You’re doing the exact opposite of what you wanna achieve.” Harsh, unwavering, but filled with warmth. Like a morning sunrise that greets your view at the crack of dawn, one that shines with a fierce blaze above the earth’s horizon which blinds your sight. 

But luckily, you don’t feel the least blinded at all. You feel fulfilled, that you could witness such a sight. A sight that punches you right in the gut and ripped your bodily nerves out, one that showed you that life is not always sunshine and rainbows. 

You clutched his hands in your shivering palms, which you held on to like a salvation on this helpless night.

“A..Are you okay?”

“What..?” This was expected. He was seen dumbfounded in seconds. Wasn’t he the one who’s supposed to support you at this very moment? When you’re sobbing endlessly with no one to turn to?

Emitting a rough groan, his eyes fall shut. And he thought all his efforts were wasted? Silly. Wondering, you tried your best to oppress a laugh that’s been bubbling in your throat.

“I meant, whether you’re okay with coming in here and telling me all these sweet things.” You rub his forehead and smoothed his hair back, attempting to give him some sort of comfortable friction as small payment back for what he did. Like a devoted mother inclining to her own child, as they lie in bed with a temperature higher than average. “You rather wouldn’t do this at all, would you?”

“Ah..how seriously troublesome.” Admittedly, he’s embarrassed. His cheeks are flushed, and you certainly don’t miss the chance to sneak a peak, earning a light flick on your forehead. 

“Whatever, feelin’ better now?” he pinches the thick skin on your waist. Better? Feeling better? 

Your tears have stopped flowing, your mind clears of all foggy implications of possible futuristic ideas of you building up to your breaking point, and your heart squeals in content. You’re grateful, that at least, one beating heart can connect to yours in a split second. That could listen to your worries, your cries for help, and how much you loathe yourself to no end.

“..Sure.” Your response falls flat in an instant. Leona isn’t an easy individual to fool, so his eyes widened out of his sleepy trance. You giggle and look at him with the softest of eyes, filled with all the affection in the world you could muster.

“Hah? I’m not going to come in here every night to pat you on the head and wipe your tears away like a spoiled toddler,” His eyebrows furrowed, “So make sure you treasure this, cause it won’t be for free.”

Twirling his soft tendrils in your ring finger, you mutter. “Like Hell I expected it to be.”

Sharing one last look of passion between both your eyes, Leona leaves feathery kisses on your knuckles, that trails up to your neck, which leaves all types of tingling sensations that spark within. You don’t miss the way he murmurs one last sentence, one that renders you lightheaded.

“I’m proud of you, my one and only herbivore.”

Azul Ashengrotto 

A certain individual’s newly polished footwear clicked and clacked on Ramshackle’s worn surface. Curiosity aroused, you peered up at the entrance of your room sheepishly.

“Now, this is unexpected, dear prefect.” Propping his glasses comfortably just right above the bridge of his nose, he opens his arms wide, as if he contains the most long-lasting benevolence which puts the Sea Witch that rules over the glimmering waters to shame. “Ah, but fear not–we can clearly talk this out! Just give me a scrap of your trust and time, and I’ll make sure that all your misgivings will vanish from this world in an instant. No traces left behind.”

You quirk an eyebrow, not the normal kind of quirk where you’re actually establishing interest in his playful deeds. But the one that leaves you astonished, that makes you question Azul’s course of action as you’re weeping. Infront of him.

A glint of mischief flashes in his diamond eyes, intent crystal-clear as the raindrops that races down the windowpanes that are attached to your room. 

You’re not surprised in the least—no, you’re just plain out bored of all his pitiful attempts at trying to seal a deal with you, even after all the history that took place. His unceasing passion for capitalism dreads you to the core, you avoid the thought of the possible number of inferior patrons he managed to fool with his underlying schemes he’s planned out with two other underlings.

“I don’t need your cherished benevolence,” You felt pathetic under the eyes of a sole founder of a striving lounge that could outlead you in a split second. “Or your cheap deals, or that dangerous look on your face-seriously, what are you doing here?”

Azul lets out a moderate hum, arms crossed over the other in displeasure at your question. “My, what a miserable tone you have there.” In normal circumstances, he anticipates the rate of you using your usual tactic of first, brushing it off with a coy smile, and second, saying the expected “Maybe next time.” to shield your entire sanity before devoting your whole body and soul to be close to, if not a 100%.

But where was Ramshackle’s prefect? The person who managed to dastardly out-villain a massively feared individual, the person who faced and threatened Leona of all people with bravery, and the person who was able clasp Azul’s heart that was thrown around, kicked about, and thrashed under other children’s immaturity to envelop it in their own embrace? 

Where was the person who was able to bring him back to his senses before no one else could?

His eyes squint to the ground. He’s beyond frustrated, over the top and it’s embarrassing. It sets a disgraceful name to the twins, the only people who have known him since elementary and stood by his side that took zero to no interest in bullying the poor octopus. That was until, when you came into the picture. 

“If you’re just going to stand there then...please, leave..” You cough, a lump of ruined pride splattered onto the bedsheets disgustingly. The tears are never-ending, like some forgotten tap that has been running for a full minute. Except it wasn’t just a whole minute for you, but for months. Months, months and months till years where the outrageous thoughts booked a spot in your head and refused to leave until it broke you down to feeble little pieces.

Azul sighs. Weak and defeated. 

How was he going to help you in this condition? His mind trails to other useful possibilities, intent pure, thoughts not-so. But as of now, his only priority, no matter what it costs, is to bring back the prefect that Azul Ashengrotto himself has grown so fond of.

He closes the door behind him and gave you a spiralling look of determination, initially faltering.

“..Well, it’s not that I am in the exact same predicament as you are,” he saunters before you while stripping his coat off in the process, stuffing his gloves in the hip pocket. “But I can’t say that I don’t understand your feelings of wanting to get back at the world for its mistreatment it has put you through.”

You don’t want this. You don’t want to be forced into signing a contract that benefits only the initiator, not again.

You flinch momentarily as he closes in on you. But you don’t fall back. Instead, you lose yourself in the immediate feeling of consolation as it blankets over your body. And what was causing that feeling—

Was his coat.

His large, fabric-sewn coat that hugged you like a fuzzy bear. Protecting you from all the other outside species that dared come to get closer by an inch. Your mind tells you to stay away at all cost, that you don’t need a sadistic money-hogger to hog your emotions away as well. But your heart swells, love overflowing for this one man that treated you so kindly. Gave you his notes, showed you his weaknesses, and even stopped editing his childhood pictures that he just wants to tear to shreds like a wild animal behind your back. All for free and for you, not for anybody else.

Because that’s how much you mean to him. Even if he doesn’t show it.

 You can’t help but let the tears fall once again, but silently, as you look up at the person behind all this.

“Merfolks have it easy under the cold weather, so no need to sweat it.” Masking his flustered state, he shrugs his shoulders and raised his arm in defence. How truly, magnificently silly I am. He thought. “And I am no different as an octopus.”

“But..rest assured, I have grown.” Leaning down to get a closer view at your face, he frowns at your wet cheeks that have been stained by the waterfall of tears, tired eyes that painted a faded crimson red around the edges, and the last spot—your forehead.

Suddenly, you feel dizzy. Dizzy and drunk from everything he’s giving you. You now, more than ever, want to steal his whole wardrobe of apparel and wrap them around your figure that yearns for his touch. The alleviation that transmits to you through his thick clothes, his branded clothing that smelled of pricey, hand-plucked plumerias from a bottled-cologne which Azul usually wears. And his own natural scent. God.

You’re spiralling.

Easy little pecks were left on your forehead. A peck that swelled with everlasting affection, one that overwhelmed with his unfair favouritism towards you, and the other that told you nobody else could ever deliver these passionate feelings to the entirety of your body that twists and turns while he claims you as his own. 

And lastly, a drunken kiss on the lips that leaves you wanting more.

“Though, I’m not entirely sure on how to bring you back to where you came from,” He thinks, and thinks, and thinks. Both of you know it was just seen as repetitive at this point, regardless...

“But you are always welcome to come running to me if you have even the slightest bit of problems. Just tell me the name, and surely, I’ll make sure they’ll never lay a hand on you once again.”  

Kalim Al-asim

Merry. Cheerful, happy, and lively. Feelings that you don’t hold in the palms of your hands at the very moment, paints your ghastly hallways in luxury as it bounces off your cries.

Kalim was too drowned out of his own thoughts, arms holding a basket of flowers that was specially picked out from the own good will of his heart from Scarabia’s highly-treasured plants of botany that originated centuries ago, adorned in red, lustre trinkets that priced at a small value. The same colour of his eyes that hypnotised you every time you steal a glance of warmheartedness. 

“Jasmine, Kudu, Iris-mm, they’re all here!” He could never be more happier. His finger tips graze over the fragile petals, leaving a speck of powdery pollen on one’s smooth skin as he dusts it off. He wishes to see you smile, brighter than the sun will ever be—brighter than him. To let you know that your entire being is worth more than his everything he’s ever received in his life. By his parents, servants, Jamil–that’s why he’s here in the first place.

To not see you cry yourself to sleep.

Before you knew it, the wooden basket that was crafted under one’s professional leisure, all the carefully picked blossoms that held a thousand meanings at your mercy, drops and crashes to the ground.

He thought it was suspicious at first. How you didn’t respond to the repetitive bangs on your door that tarnished in a distasteful, brown-to-grey colour scale that drifts of dust. Anybody could’ve sworn he would break the door down with his mere knocking-considering how weak it has grown over its unused years.

Not only that, he was sure that the fragrance that falls off the flowers was strong enough to grace the entire household of Ramshackle. Given Jamil’s advice, he didn’t want to taint such beauties that he preserved just for you. As his friend, and unknowingly, as his majesty.

“K-kalim!” Plunging off your sunken bed in an instant, burst of hidden energy coming from God knows where—you stood up with jelly-like legs, ready to give out at any moment. His face that told a forgotten story of horror, fingers trembling with the wind across his clothes-features that made you want to grasp on to the last ounce of strength that you mumbled under your breath for the heavens above.

“Why’re you here at this hour..? Are you sure Jamil isn’t yelling at each and every one of the residents in Scarabia to go search for you?” You were beyond concerned. What could happen if he went outside alone again? Disturbed as you were, but admittedly, you didn’t want him to go back. Back to Scarabia, where you would morph back to the lonesome, pitiable self you were.

He laughs as his dimwitted-self would. Everybody grows uneasy at such a positive individual. He brushes off a heavy task of his-even if it potentially causes his life. People around complain and tells him it wasn’t as safe as he thought.

But you treasured such an individual. You wanted to stay with this individual for as long as you could, you wanted to become this individual that portrayed such angelic charms where no one could compete. You didn’t want to stay at Night Raven Collage, the title of the powerless prefect enforced upon you against your own will. You didn’t choose to stay here in the first place.

On the spot, soft sniffling took over your senses.

“No...” You weren’t even given the time to react, before a pair of shaken hands grab on to your shoulders by force. “No...who did this to you?!” 

Wide eyes stared into the endless depths of your soul, an iron grip stronger than the struggling ceiling that looked like it was about to collapse onto your defenseless bodies at any second. You're surely exaggerating, an eery image that was to be recorded inside the textbooks of former, worldwide-phenomenal history, one that automatically forces a stain in your sullied mind, something that you won’t be able to forget so simply.

Kalim’s overbearing emotions, rotton as the flowers that were stepped on as they lay lifelessly on the floor.

Your body froze, heart cracking emphatically for the entire world to hear. You never wanted it to come to this point, because you expected such response. You knew that the great tears of his beloveds will pollute the clarity of his mind, instantly turning to self-blame, which you dread to see. You never wanted anything more than to seal yourself away from this world without anyone ever noticing.

“Please, don’t ever think this was any of your fault.” Caressing his dampened cheek, you cooed as low as the crickets of a mockingbird that reverberates around the neighbourhood at the wee hours of the night. The last thing you ever wanted was to spell trouble for Kalim. Now, two unbroken streams of tears flowed, his still prevailed.

“No. Now that that I’ve seen your tears..” He wipes his eyes, “I want to give you something that significances in value more than my life!” 

Silly, something that doesn’t quite sit corrected with the mood. But you know he’s dead serious, right?

“Jewellery, makeup, fancy clothing, a chandelier—anything! Please, just name the price! I don’t care if Jamil disapproves!”

You wanted to cry yourself to sleep.

“Please...” He pulls you in a hug. A hug that warns you to never let go, a hug that held you like a life support, a hug that gifted you unconditional love that the world failed to send. “Tell me what’s wrong, I’ll send ten-no-a hundred servants on your way! You won’t have to worry about a thing, they’ll take care of you better than I ever wi-”

Immediate silence, desperate cries arrowed by your hushed move to place a kiss on his lips. His heated ramblings that fell off the tip of his tongue that tuned in with your head in a daze, making your heart oh-so ready to jump out of your body and offer the same pleasure back.

Immediately, he cradled your head in his arms. Love radiating from his body, burned hotter than his hometown where he stepped foot in every day. A longing pang of guilt, mixed with the sentiment of an olden song from the Land of Hot Sands that would bring tranquil upon the children of the sun who would squeal in euphoric measures.  A core memory that Kalim enjoys reminiscing every now and then.

He does everything in his power to bring such comfort to your mind.

“S-so don’t worry about the flowers...” He pulls away as he grips the side of your head, “I’ll give you something much more worthy.”

He closes in, peppering sweet, saccharine pecks on the shell of your ears that flavoured of honey and vanilla. Kisses soothing as morning Jasmine tea, topped in luscious sugar cubes that shimmered in the slightest under the soft, hovering sunlight. His kisses are heavenly, to die for, and something that you can never get from anybody else.

“Hey, can we go to bed together?” He rubs your temples shyly, hoping that you agree to his offer. “I want to stay with you till the sun rises. To give you all the cuddles and nose nuzzles you deserve in the entire world.”

To no one’s surprise- you thought for a second, even having your doubts and possible consequences that ran through your head. But you realised-that doesn’t matter. And even never will, if you’re lucky enough. So all you could do was nod.

In the blink of an eye, you both are now scurrying to the middle of your bed with the door shut. Your heart flutters, lead by Kalim’s loving grip.

His feelings now beamed a radiance of dazzling, eye-blinding smiles.

Because he would rather be greeted by the comforting view of your pretty face in the morning. Something different other than a tray full of metal utensils, accompanied by expensive ceramic bowls filled with freshly picked fruits, and a cup of warm tea that waits to be sipped on.

Vil Schoenheit

A faded tune plays out just outside the room of your door, as one’s sensual voice reaches your ears just loud enough for you to hear, amidst the torrential rain.

“Mira, Mira, tell me something.” 

A pause,

“Who, at the moment, is the most beautiful of all?”

You shudder in anticipation. A name that existed in this world, a name that’s been forgotten by the people from your world that was nowhere near in sight, which possibly made multiple headlines and was altered to deceased in the end-

A name that belonged to you. A puny human being. 

“(Y/n) (L/n).”

You audibly scoffed at how stupid it was. You? The fairest? Not even the bloody stars that aligned for you every once in a while could behold such a weak lie right in front of your face. Yes, you’re far from the fairest, far from beautiful, far from presentable—just a body sown by crimson threads interlacing in the most poisonous, velvety of patterns where one saw fit to mingle their courtly love with.

“My, did you hear that? It didn’t say my name for the first time.” Shoving his handphone back into his pocket, he rests his hand on his hip, assuming you’d get the message, a simple trick up his sleeves that he knew it were to be of use one day. You catch a quick glimpse of his hand. It’s still the same as ever-smudged, dry lipstick that matched the colour of Vil. What enticing aura that surrounds him, which you could never hold a candle to in a million years.

“Perhaps, it is I who has kept on believing such hoax? The Magic Mirror never lies.” He places a finger to his lips, “So, calm yourself. It would be a problem if I were to stain my hands from tears like yours.”

Demeanor as harsh as the Evil Queen, but you know from the bottom of his heart that these words weren’t lies. At all.

He swiftly pushes the door back until it closes, as his gaze ricochets among your worn pajamas, unruly hair, and your indented fingernails present of hours from unconscious biting and pricking-a slacked appearance that defeats the whole purpose of being beauty’s shining light. But don’t worry, just add the tiniest budge of makeup, make an appointment for the most world-class salons that makes tenfold the amount of money you make and conceal all those imperfections with the help insincere compliments that sheds of jealousy. Doesn’t sound too bad, does it?

Vil rolls his eyes. Wrong. An absolutely atrocious idea.

Your shoulders drop the way your tears did, your presence a mockery to his. You shift awkwardly under his peering eyes that were no different from a hawk’s as he studies your figure. After a moment, a small smirk dances on his face, fleek eyebrows raising as your tumbled eyes stared at him in contempt. Vil swishes his hair back before he walks towards you and cups your face in the palm of his hands.

“Well, the thought of you being the fairest doesn’t sound...half bad.” Twisting your head slightly, he analyses for it for a few seconds and combes your hair with his elongated fingers, easing the frizz that eats away at your chances of being the utmost beautiful amid all the other unwithering bouquets of roses out there. 

But..you didn’t want to believe that. You obviously can’t be so sure that you are in fact, the most eye-catching anyone has ever seen. You didn’t—couldn’t see how Vil saw you as one of his kind, a lovely rose put on display for the hungry eyes of influencers, model scouters and agencies that actively has their eyes open for new talents. In short, you were less than worthy.

But to Vil, and to him alone, you were the most prettiest rose he has ever layed his eyes upon. A rose that lit up his sad endings, making them ones he would want to live through. As long as you were there, no bad endings would  ever be bad endings with sunken eyes and dried tears. Because you were there to give him his own happy ever after that he's longed for forever.

Whispered coos brushed against your ears as he babbles on about how much of a mess you were at the moment, but he’s aware that we was balancing on a thin line of string that was his own mentality. He wanted nothing more than to take care of you and to tend to you to your uttermost enchanting self that only he could call his. A name suitable for Ramshackle’s prefect, no?

A beauty amongst all the other dorms, uniqueness that piqued countless interests at school, but you chose him? And he still wonders why till this day. Exactly why-he’s set on caressing your body, shushing your worries and unravelling your deepest of vulnerabilities. He wants you to prosper more than ever, to spread your wings that you kept a secret from everyone and soar magnificently through the burdensome storms until you reached the mount of the stars above.

“But, these tears are terribly troublesome.” He pulls your face closer, “Come now, let me wipe them away.” 

You froze up for a bit before shifting away slightly. You don’t know why-but the thought of Vil doing something so out-of-character makes you shudder like a lonesome, stray cat in the windy nights. Not really that far off from your current state, but you digress.

That’s when realisation actually starts to hit you like a truck–It’s way past his bedtime, did he even get to do his routinely touch-ups before coming here? Your sanity is nothing more than past the levels of recurring zeros, but you haven’t completely lost yourself. At least, that’s what you hoped. For both you and your beloved’s sake.

There, he tsks. “What are you, half-asleep?” His eyebrows knit as he looks down at you cross-armed. He isn’t wrong-you were still trying to process his unprecedented courses of actions that kept ambushing your thoughts on by one. 

Not particularly good for the wellbeing of your mind, but you would be lying if you said cupid hasn’t played with your heartstrings like a contrabass if his streaming flow of purple-tipped locks that skimmed right over your eyelashes in the most graceful way possible-didn’t make your heart beat a few milliseconds faster, followed by heated, flushed cheeks. “But, you said-”

“Do you not know how to take a joke?” He tips your chin upwards in the slightest, giving you a better view of his eyes that swirled of his complete endearment towards you. Entranced, is a word you would describe yourself in. Everything about him makes you want to melt into a puddle this instant. His body language, his hair, to his tantalizing scent, flirtatious but soft-hearted touches of gold that sparked a connection only between two hearts and no more.

Your tears fall harder than before, which managed to startle Vil as he pulls his fingers away from your face. Yes, you look pathetic, but you’ve never wanted anything more than just an iota of comfort. From anyone, you even pleaded for the heaven’s wave of hope above, for everyone to hear but no one to appear. You’re desperate and drained, unfilled with life as your soul screams out just as loud as your cries do.

“Goodness.” His gaze softens, as he directs your hands rubbing your eyes to the large of your thighs. Gleaming eyes meet yours as he closes your eyes shut. Once he deems you ready, you were immediately swept away with the fervor feeling of bliss that spreads throughout your entire body.

Tenderly kisses were placed on top each of your eyelids, sending a low hum of pleasure down your throat as Vil captivates you deeper into the tunnels of his own heart that he’s guarded for so long. He wants you to understand him, to fulfill his lovestruck desires that makes all the 7 types of Greek love drastically pale in comparison. A love that no one could ever copy if they wanted to, a love that’s shared between two devoted individuals, as dazzling as the Evil Queen’s tiara that flashes in front of wandering eyes.

He holds the sides of your jaw so passionately, it makes you knees go weak. 

He wants to show his fans—the whole earth—how much of an otherworldly being you can truly be, and that his relationship with you was not all just show.

“I’ll stay with you for the night, that way I can make sure you’re all prim and proper in the morning once you wake up from your daily slumber.” He plants a soft peck on your lips, directing one hand down your waist while massaging it quietly.

You nod, fluttering you eyes open as he grazes his thumb ever so gently on your forehead. You’d succumb to each and every one of his effort to take care of you, no matter how strenuous it may seem. Because you’re all his. A person that he’ll gladly spend all his endings with. Just without the script this time- because true love doesn’t need such artificial shortcuts when it’s between you and him.

Idia Shroud

“U-Uh...” Your eyes spot an imprecise silhouette as it strolls closer to your door, taking unsure steps while visible strands of incandescent hair that sways in place lights up the closed area–that you reluctantly call your home. Incoherent mumbles of defiance slides through the dull width shaping the space between the door and the decaying wall that’s been collecting dust and inducing nasty pests for God knows how long.

Twiddling his thumbs in motioning circles, he stutters to speak the next audible sentence that’s been waiting to roll off the tip of his tongue. Fidgeting eyes stayed ultra-glued to the ground as he presses his lips tight. Summoning the tiniest bit of courage to peep through the crack that has been distancing both him and yourself from ever getting closer, he mutters.

“I...I couldn’t help but hear you.” His fingers come to a stop as his hand latches on to the metallic-painted doorknob, widening his field of vision of you tightening your grip on the poor bedsheets that probably sustained countless hours of unrestrained rage that doesn’t seem to be going away anytime soon. He sighs, before resting his hand once he came to a comfortable position.

“Do you mind if I come in?”

You huffed, one laced with arrogance, and you dully motion his shaking form to come inside with the tip of your finger. He oddly lacks reaction for the first time despite his past inept encounters with you where you could only recall his solid refusal to make direct eye contact, how he tipped his hoodie further down his face so he could hide his eyes finding his oh-gracious savior–either Ortho or the nearest door next by where he could trip over his own loose shoelaces to hide in. 

He shuts the door and stumbles inside to sit at the side of your bed—his shoelaces are still untied. That serves your mind into a disorientation, not knowing whether to chuckle at his childish carelessness that is the same of a child’s or to cringe at how painfully long he took just to reach the remaining half of the bed-and to occupy it.

Though he wouldn’t mind if you did laugh for just a millisecond. Hell, even cracking a delicate smile would’ve been enough to bring silent peace to his heart. Your laugh is an un-sung melody that jazzes with the wind. One that compliments your endearing gaze, unblemished with the tiniest glint of protection in your eyes that pierces right through his, sharp as a honed needle.

He swears he saw flower petals that enriches the school grounds comedically come flowing down behind you, like he was meant to see such an ethereal sight bestowed upon his eyes. Was the sunlight gracing your skin too bright as if an influx of blinding stars were shooting down to hit the earth ground-first, or was it just him?

No matter, once he was comfortable, he shuffles closer–just a little closer, so that his breathy voice could be heard within the thunderous downpour. It’s nothing compared to your endless stream of tears, he feels. And it’s true.

“...Can’t go back to your own world, huh? Must be depressing.” There winds away the momentous sympathy he presented so obviously to the naked eye. But the words that he spits out of his running mouth and his body language are two entirely different things. He’s growing increasingly nervous as the clock ticks by. 

Your seemingly boundless patience is truly a gifted trait, if you could knock out someone’s tooth once or twice right now, you would.

But once he looks into your eyes once more, he feels it—the ruthless pang that scarfs down on his own heart, repulsive, disgusting, unsightly, your disheveled appearance rips open an undiscovered memory of his, one that he wants to forget. The demonic voices in his head that submerges him deep down his past inability to come to the rescue for someone who needed it the most. Tingling nerves creep up his body, as the knots in his throat displays him utterly, deafeningly speechless, unable to scream out.

Will it only get worse from here?

If he won't be able to save the very person who accepted him for the way he was, just because of his own negligence again?

It's terribly cliche but he does it. Like a real mvp would, his mind speaks things he can't say aloud. His hand hovers just right above your own, achingly close, and he slowly caresses your scraped knuckles, before interlacing his raw-boned fingers between yours. His fingers twitch in the slightest, but he calms the disastrous war in his mind and squeezes the flesh that only dares to squeeze back.

"I get it...i-if I'm not some type of fairy tale prince that's all lovey-dovey." His other hand toys with the ends of his hair. away from your curious gaze. His words, how he enunciates them, the way they don't leave your ears with unfilled fondness that's been deeply rooted in your heart for ages-are choppy as usual. And you love him for that.

Could he have found someone else so abruptly unjudgmental of him? Someone who sees right through his loner facade? He wishes this moment could last forever, just you and him, under the glittering moonlight that highlights your facial features, a prepossessing sight that mirrors the exact same times where you sit together in the day, on the same bench, under the same tree.

Whispers filled with room for only two souls.

"B-but, it's only natural for me to take this much courage," He pauses before inhaling a sharp breath, "okay..?"

You could only send out a small laugh before his free hand slips off the fabric that covers your frame-hiding your shoulders. Your eyes widen momentarily before you fall into a bliss of heavenly exchange.

His lips connect with the skin on your shoulder. A soothing texture that subdues the whirl of emotions that rack through your entire body, replaces it with unsaid longing for your mere touch. Forbidden anesthesia to your train of thoughts, the voice which you couldn't seem to find within yourself anymore, to which you decided to roam your tear-stained hands in his flickering hair, mumbling sweet praises of love while he plants his pecks in each and every inch on your shoulder, leaving tiny smacks from his lips once it disconnects.

You could never ask for a better way to showcase your love for Idia. Undying, naive love that even he would find stupid for a lone wolf like him. But his eyes could only stray to your lips. Lonely—was one way to describe it.

Maybe one day he could empty out his own thoughts, his own arrogant feelings that cages his ego, and substitute the loneliness that masks it with his own lips that were none other than lonelier. 

It's a few minutes–maybe longer than that, before his face leaves your body and his thumbs massaging the bare skin while he catches his breath. Rather someone as inexperienced as him was bound to do something silly, but he leaves you in a state of surprise when he pulls it off. Was the side quest really that hard? You chuckled. "I'm happy you came. Really."

His gaze swiftly returns to your eyes. Eyes that sheen on the surface–there it is. Eyes of someone beautiful, the opposite of him.

"Is there any way I can pay you back?" You ask once again. You have a vague idea of what he might demand back as payment.

His mood lightens, and suddenly, his hair seems brighter than usual. 

"...Let's go back to Ignihyde dorm together. Tons'a sweet games we can play on my PC until the sun rises."   

Malleus Draconia 

You've lost your track of time, how long it's been since you've been holding in the disgusting bile that hangs over the tip of your lips. Hideous tears that paints your face, the word 'pathetic' scrawled ruthlessly across your forehead, ridiculing each and every course of action you take out of pure pity. Scrunching your face out of anger? Nails digging into your skin so dangerously deep trickles of crimson blood gushes out of it? A childish emotion you’re taking way too seriously?

Foolish. How dense could that headmage be to let you enroll at such a school as Night Raven College?

You could only hiccup once more before palish flickering lights—ones identical to fireflies—illuminate the room that blinds your line of sight. A gentle gust of wind that whisks upon coming in contact with your figure. A rather soft glow that relishes with the dampened air that surrounds it. You recognise the scenery before you quickly, it’s burned into your the deepest caves of your mind at this point.

The tall figure looms before you, eyes shut, as he regains his consciousness and takes seconds to let his eyes flicker a few times before his gaze settles wholly on you. A shudder slithers through your body.

The Malleus Draconia. A prominent, noble profile from Briar Valley where heads are hung low, torches are lit, gates are unbolted, all in favour and in submission for a singular prince that reigns over the land where residents sing a chorus of praises at his very name. 

You wonder if he’s here to give you a greeting regarding a goodnight’s rest? After all, it’s been around a month’s span since you’ve each had your enchanting encounters with each other in the dead of the night.

“Child of man.” He whispers, beyond your hearing. The rainstorm distinguishes your own ability to hear past his low utter of words, other nights were just fine, but this particular night is where your humanly senses betray you. Your sentimental daydreams you have where your back in your own world, the nostalgic scent of home that brings your disdained body back it’s dignity that you felt was missing your entire time here in this unfamiliar world,

And your homesickness finally going away. The melody that weaves with the endless song of time, harmonizing together, wrapping your heart in a paramount supply of hugs that’s warmer than the frayed blanket that sits atop your shivering frame. The nocturnal air that stabs you all throughout your body gives your bones an unwelcomed smile.

Still, he continues. “Your gift of cries are...horrendously loud. I suppose, abnormal for even the human aural to bear hear to.”

The snot that clogs your nose and sniffles leaves you next words sounding-somewhat decipherable. “I-I’m aware..” 

You’re positive you’ve passed the safe levels of lifeless insanity at the point. An esteemed prince who holds onto the steel ropes of eternal living, face-to-face with a frail, powerless human being who’s lost it’s way in life. The basic need to be grateful for being given such a short lifespan but such a widespread of humanly emotions, gone with the wind.

But Malleus only has so little to show you before you die down into mere dust, no?

“..Would you like me to take my leave?” He questions. It’s simple: Someone’s bawling their eyes out in front of you, it’s only normal to assume that they want to be left alone at most, right?

You didn’t answer. You couldn't answer. No body language, zero eye contact, the unfiltered noise of silence that grows larger as both of your hearts beat in rhythm. You were sure that if anyone from his hometown were to stumble upon this, to see your lack of basic respect towards its beloved kind, you could have never prepare for the cruel fate that dawns upon your very being.

You sit still. The hands that tremble under his gaze, barricading your ears from listening any further, The thunderous rainstorms are particularly loud tonight, was it his doing? His own emotions reflecting in the rain-bearing clouds that only seemed to gather more neighbouring ones to produce more short-lived lightnings of thunder? Or was it yours too?

You await his response. The disturbance that creeps up behind your back is suffocating. 

But the only thing you see in his eyes is sorrow. 

Emerald green, eyes that usually basked in glossed solemnity, faltering before your very eyes. Eyes that go soft, only in the light of your very presence.

How it started? You’re not sure. How he moved after despite your purposeful ignorance? He was too quick that he appeared in front of you, right in the blink of your teary eyes.

The tip of his finger, pointed under your chin as he invites the tiniest scrap of magic to use to make you look up at him. Just what was he planning to do next? Chant out an ancient spell that sends your head hitting the pillow the next instant? But you can’t deny, his face was..a sight to take in. You were probably missing out the past couple of nights chatting with him under the light pole that weakly casts light upon your talking bodies, due to Ramshackle still having yet to be renovated, possibly throwing away a couple of thousands of thaumarks just to fix that age-old building which sends a storm of dust flying your way.

“Child of man,” Your eyes focus solely on him. “do I have your appropriate consent?”

Appropriate consent? Your mind strays off to countless possibilities—what possible measures could he have thought about taking, dubious enough to ask for your very own consent, one that comes out from your own mouth that speaks your heart but doesn’t dare to speak the very depths of your mind?

Malleus remains poised—as usual, regal air that he carries around with him everywhere. On the other hand, you were conflicted. A one-of-a-kind chance! One of his supporters would persuade. You had no idea what he could be hiding behind his front. The blood in your veins run cold, but the scars-the blazing scars you obtained through the numerous overblots. The unpaid labour that you were coerced into, making you scurry from left to right for a certain mage, the restless nights where you had to skim through unfamiliar formulas as it started downing on your brain.

But you choose to trust. For the first time in a while, because your heart knows he isn’t the type of person. 

Nodding, you feel your eyes fall shut.

His steady fingers, tracing the very tip of your jawline, a passion that radiates out of his own intimacy, cracking under the closure of your eyes. You wish you could open them, but you didn’t want to interrupt the loving sensations that brought the utmost peace to your wounded soul. It didn’t feel like thorns pricking at your skin, no, but a bundle of tight roses, presented in the most delicate fashion that soothed the invading noises that thundered in your head, which now felt like a distant memory.

The colour of fiery red, the same colour that splashed his heart, setting it ablaze, only the best for the person who saw beyond his frontal image. The person who saw such rumours about him silly. The person who was able to grasp his heart and bond it with their never-ending kindness.

And you feel him hesitate. But he was still the same as you ever saw him.

The Malleus Draconia, who would stop at nothing to protect your defenseless body from anything that dares to bring harm to you.

Who would take an excruciating sword to the heart for your own sake.

The Malleus Draconia, who would make the sun and the moon collide, just for you.

The tears begin falling, they’re non-stop, and they don’t plan to stop any time soon. The love-filled kisses he leaves on your jawline feels deep. Full of months from craving, since the moment he found out about your existence in this twisted world. He figures how much you abhorred it all around, and all the awful memories that relives itself through your mind each and every night, memories that morphed itself into nightmares.

But he whispers into your ear once again that he’ll bring you into a world full of sweet dreams, that you’ll no longer have to brood over such ugly daydreams that echoes blanky into your head. He continues his nurturing actions, his intoxicating kisses, feeling that his gift of love was far from ending.

Because he only wants to bathe you in all forms of peace, something that he couldn’t sincerely feel until he met you. So he’s simply giving back what he took.

A worthy gift from the heart, healing on this helpless night, no?

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader #twst x y/n #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia

[subir-astrologer]

WILL JUPITER’S ASPECT ON SATURN EASE AN EVENT IN HOROSCOPE

There is a misconception that Saturn will delay or deny an event where ever it is placed in the horoscope. No no this is absolutely wrong understanding.

The aspect of Jupiter is definitely good on Saturn and it will also minimize the quality signified by Saturn as per the horoscope when Saturn is placed in 5th house getting jupiter’s aspect from 11th house.

One need to learn about the specific event signified by 5th house for the purpose of analysis to analyze if that event is a promised in the horoscope because not all events of 5th house happen at same time.

One need to bear in mind that Saturn’s placement is not going to deny nor create hurdles every time it is place there in 5th house and if the planet is place in a very comfortable, will give excellent results also.

There is no guarantee that the aspect of Jupiter from 11th house will grant the event of 5th house even if it is denied or shows hurdle as the signification of Jupiter itself also needed to be studied and its not that the ascpect of Jupiter will always be beneficial.

For example : For libra and capricorn ascendant if the Jupiter is placed in 11th house then it will create hurdles as it is the lord of 6th and 12th house respectively and 11th house acts as badhakesh for all chara lagna / movable sign ascendant.

Secondly one need to take all the other planets contributions in consideration as their impacts also matter and astrology is not between 2 planets.

There are many more parameters that is needed to be studied before arriving at a prediction of a specific event as per a particular horoscope.

In a nutshell in general the 11th house aspect of Jupiter on 5th house Saturn is good but in general is not a dictum that will come true for all horoscope under this same condition / placement.

#jupiter aspect on saturn #jupiter aspect on saturn effect #jupiter aspect effects #jupiter aspect in horoscope #vedic astrology #astrologer #vedic astrologer #horoscope readings #astrology #horoscope posts #horoscope analysis #horoscopes #vedicastrology #horoscope #dailyhoroscope #daily horoscope #daily astrology #remedies #kundli

[dr-alex-zarifis]

Lecturers should constantly develop their teaching skills as well as their topic knowledge, so that they can thrive in a changing environment

My start as a lecturer was rather unusual. Most of the others from my PhD cohort at the University of Manchester progressed seamlessly to lectureships without having to change their topic. My first role was to take several face-to-face modules on different topics, convert them to online modules, retrain the lecturers to teach online and get the programmes validated for online delivery.

This meant I fell behind in my specialisation that was e-commerce and trust, but it gave me an appreciation of the importance of studying different teaching approaches and adapting to different contexts. There is a huge variety of approaches with different advantages. For example, one reputable university has three compulsory assignments per week to ‘force’ students to engage whilst another has one assignment per module to avoid over-assessment.

There are certainly no simple answers or one model that always works. The only solution is to constantly learn different teaching approaches, understand our context and try to marry the two as best we can.

I have tried to understand the impact of context on education for many years. I have researched how collaborative patterns improve online collaboration among students [1] and how to develop a course for cross-border e-commerce [2]. More recently I have explored the potential of Artificial Intelligence in education [3], how to improve student satisfaction online [4] and the impact of online learning for students during the pandemic [5].

When I was doing my PhD, I had a professor that told me I had to read three papers a day. I do not achieve this most days, but it is a clear target for me to aspire towards. I believe a clear target for us to aim for as lecturers is to read one paper or book chapter on education a week. I hope we do not have another pandemic but if we do our homework and improve our craft, we should be ready for whatever new context we face.

References

1. Cheng, X., Wang, X., Huang, J., & Zarifis, A. (2016) ‘An Experimental Study of Satisfaction Response: Evaluation of Online Collaborative Learning’, International Review of Research in Open and Distributed Learning, 17, 60–78. Available from (open access): http://www.irrodl.org/index.php/irrodl/article/view/2110

2. Cheng, X., Su, L. & Zarifis, A. (2019) ‘Designing a talents training model for cross-border e-commerce: a mixed approach of problem-based learning with social media’, Electronic Commerce Research, 19, 801–822. Available from: https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s10660-019-09341-y

3. Cheng, X., Sun, J., Zarifis, A. (2020) ‘Artificial intelligence and deep learning in educational technology research and practice’, British Journal of Educational Technology, 51, 1653–1656 . Available from: https://bera-journals.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/epdf/10.1111/bjet.13018

4. Efthymiou, L., Zarifis, A. (2021) ‘The International Journal of Management Education Modeling students ’ voice for enhanced quality in online management education’, The International Journal of Management Education, 19, 100464. Available from: https://doi.org/10.1016/j.ijme.2021.100464

5. Zuo, Y., Cheng, X., Bao, Y., Zarifis, A. (2021) Investigating user satisfaction of university online learning courses during the COVID-19 epidemic period. In: Proceedings of the 54th Hawaii International Conference on System Sciences. pp. 1139–1148 . Available from (open access): http://hdl.handle.net/10125/70751

Thank you to the University of Nicosia, especially Chara Zymara and Kasiani Pari, for featuring my article:

#education #university #academics #lecturer

[netmassimo]

Un articolo pubblicato sulla rivista "The Astrophysical Journal" riporta uno studio basato sulle più dettagliate immagini ottenute finora del disco protoplanetario che circonda la giovanissima stella V1295 Aquilae. Un team di ricercatori ha usato l'array del CHARA, il più grande interferometro ottico e infrarosso del mondo, per ottenere in particolare immagini dell'area interna del disco protoplanetario con dettagli mai visti prima. Nonostante ciò, i risultati hanno portato più domande che risposte perché hanno confermato la presenza di strutture nel disco ed emissioni riportate da studi precedenti ma le loro caratteristiche non hanno ancora spiegazioni complete.

#astronomia #stelle #disco protoplanetario #V1295 Aquilae

[unholyyyyyy]

ｃｈａｒａ． ｓｔｕｄｙ

1. Do you put ketchup on a hot dog? No, relish and honey mustard. 2. Choice of soda? Root beer or cherry coke. 3. Do you own a gun? No 4. Can you swim? Yes 5. Hot dogs or cheeseburger? Cheeseburgers. 6. Favorite type of food? Pizza ♥ 7. Do you believe in ghosts? Absofuckinglutely. 8. What do you drink in the morning? matcha latte. 9. Can you do 100 push-ups? no, these are a thing? :/ 10. Favorite time of year? Fall or spring. 11. Your favorite hobby? Reading 12. Tattoos? Yes, too many to count. 13. Do you wear glasses? I do, mornings and night, when I don't wear contacts. 14. Do you have a phobia? the ocean and spiders. 15. Do you have a nickname? Mic, Cinnamon Roll (thanks, Oli) 16. Three favorite drinks? lemonade, matcha latte, Redbull 18. Rain or snow? both, when I don't have to go out in it. 19. Can you change a tire? Yesss. 20. Favorite flower? Lillies. 21. Can you drive a stick? No, unfortunely. 22. Ever gone skydiving? I don't have a death wish, thanks. 23. Kids? No maam. 24. Favorite color? rose gold or purple. 25. Employed? duh. white coat status. 26. Can you whistle? yessir. 27. Favorite vacation? Puerto Rico. 28. Siblings? A brother and a half sister 29. Surgeries? Yes, 30. Shower or bath? SHOWER. baths are gross 31. Last song you listened to? the other girl, Kelsea and Halsey 32. Broken bones? Yeahhhhh. 33. How many TVs are in your house? Two 34. Worst pain? heartbreak. 35. Do you like to sing? I do, when I'm alone. 36. Are your parents still alive? Yes, they are. 38. What do you enjoy binge-watching? any cooking shows. 39. Pumpkin or pecan pie? Pumpkinnnn 40. Someone who will play? Aiden maybe :/ Tatum, idk.

#per chara study

[synchronousemma]

13th December: Riddles of every sort

Read and comment on WordPress

Read: Vol. 1, ch. 9; pp. 44–45 (“The Picture, elegantly framed” through to “Miss Smith could inspire him”). Context

Harriet’s portrait is hung in Hartfield. Emma and Harriet begin their riddle-book. Emma asks Mr. Elton for a contribution. Note that the first section (“Whose Line Is It, Anyway?”) may contain spoilers. The section “Cupid? A Chimney-Sweep? Love-In-Idleness?” contains reference to the sexual abuse of minors.

Readings and Interpretations

Whose Line Is It, Anyway? This section continues the previously mentioned pattern of narration that shades between Emma’s and the narrator’s perspective, or that is a composite voice belonging to each. We are told that

[Elton] got up to look at [Emma’s portrait of Harriet], and sighed out his half sentences of admiration just as he ought; and as for Harriet’s feelings, they were visibly forming themselves into as strong and steady an attachment as her youth and sort of mind admitted. Emma was soon perfectly satisfied of Mr. Martin’s being no otherwise remembered, than as he furnished a contrast with Mr. Elton, of the utmost advantage to the latter (vol. 1, ch. 9; p. 44).

“[J]ust as he ought,” a first-time reader may assume, could be an opinion about Mr. Elton’s ideal conduct that has narratorial sanction; it could, as the reader ‘in the know’ may guess, be Emma’s opinion alone; it could be an opinion belonging to both, though each would apply it with a different emphasis. Given Elton’s focus on form and following the formulae of courtship, the construction may also bear a shade of his consciousness, or at least take advantage of an ambiguity in the contextual meaning of the word “ought”: Elton’s sigh in regarding Harriet’s portrait is the externally perceptible sign of a spontaneous overflow of feeling which would allow an observer to guess at that feeling, and thus “ought” is a commentary on the suitability of external signs to a favorite interpretation; or it is an indication that the action is performed by rote (he sighs because it is what he “ought” to do). That this construction is an echo of one that occurred earlier (“Harriet was to sit again the next day; and Mr. Elton, just as he ought, entreated for the permission of attending and reading to them again”; vol. 1, ch. 6; p. 29) heightens the ambiguity. The comment on Harriet’s “sort of mind” is also at least nominally ambiguous in provenance. Assuming that it represents Emma’s thinking, it points to something that Elizabeth Sabiston has argued regarding the relationship between the two women: “Internal evidence points to the fact that Emma is completely lucid about Harriet’s shortcomings. Far from being infatuated with her, as [Marvin] Mudrick supposes, she constantly points a finger of gentle scorn at her ignorance, incidentally contrasting it to her own wit” (p. 35). The second sentence then brings us back to an explicit narratorial framing of Emma’s perspective. A Great Deal of Useful Reading We learn early on in this section that Emma and Harriet begin their riddle-book project in default of a more serious course of reading:

[Emma’s] views of improving her little friend’s mind, by a great deal of useful reading and conversation, had never yet led to more than a few first chapters, and the intention of going on to-morrow. It was much easier to chat than to study; much pleasanter to let her imagination range and work at Harriet’s fortune, than to be labouring to enlarge her comprehension or exercise it on sober facts (vol. 1, ch. 9; p. 44).1

In the 19th century, riddles were widely collected and reprinted by presses and by individuals, and were commonly thought to have an educational function that particularly suited them for young people. Per David Selwyn:

[C]ollections [of charades] were common in the period, and their purpose was as much educative as recreational; the preface to [an] 1823 publications […] recommends the study of the enigma and the charade as ‘an exercise, well adapted to the mind of youth. When I say youth,’ the author adds, ‘I mean persons of both sexes, matured to that age, at which they are taking leave of their early seminaries.’ This is precisely Harriet’s position. Jane Austen’s satire is not directed at the charade itself but at the fact that this is the extent of Harriet’s literary activity and that Emma is content for it to be so (p. 287).

C. Larry Chabot connects Emma’s complacency in avoiding more strenuous literary undertakings to what he argues is her central fault, the inability to perceive and value the external world:

The acquisition and development […] of an educated mind necessarily entails the recognition of values outside the self. Emma […] long appears constitutionally unable to accomplish this. […] In short, Emma perceives her world and all it contains as a plaything which exists solely for her immediate gratification. Throughout much of the novel Emma dwells within a world her desires define. Her reshaping of her world not only violates the autonomy of each person with whom she comes in contact but also cuts her off from the comings and going of the real world (pp. 293–4).2

You will recall, however, that there are scholars (such as Claudia Johnson and Hilary Schor) who do not see Emma’s dilatory approach to learning and accomplishment as symptomatic of a larger flaw (see the section “Dear Emma’s Little Faults” in the post for 15th November). Cupid? A Chimney-Sweep? Love-In-Idleness? This section features Mr. Woodhouse attempting several times to recite a riddle he had known in his youth, beginning with the words “Kitty, a fair but frozen maid.” Jill Heydt-Stevenson argues that the “sexually frank and brutal” riddle indicates the existence of a subversive quality in Austen’s novels that critics often suppress:

Written by David Garrick, this verse was first printed in 1771 in The New Foundling Hospital for Wit […] [T]his riddle is quite lewd, even disturbingly so: [reprints riddle] The riddle addresses the plight of a man (the narrator) who has been infected with venereal disease (“a flame I still deplore”) and who “prays” to “the hood-wink’d boy” for a cure. The solution to the riddle of lines 16–19 is that the youth who raises and quenches such flames is a chimney sweep. And the prize for guessing—the kiss—is slang for sexual intercourse. The first two lines offer multiple interpretations about how the speaker has been infected. For example, did he contract it from Kitty, the “fair, but frozen maid,” or from another woman? […] The next two stanzas describe two possible cures. Lines 11–15 reveal the narrator invoking a remarkable species of magical thinking, since he believes (according to the folklore of the time, which was still being circulated as late as 1857) that sex with a virgin would cure him of the disease—hence, “Each day some willing victim bleeds.” [FN: The line […] is of course tragically wrong insofar as these children were the victims of violent rape.] […] Austen interweaves into the novel the issues that the riddle introduces, such as prostitution, venereal disease, and the double standard; and she incorporates the same images—a matrix of heat and cold and figures of cupids and chimneys—that we find in the riddle. […] [T]he young women have written it out entirely on their “second page,” having copied it from the “Elegant Extracts”—another joke on Austen’s part, given that the Extracts were a most conservative publication. […] Because the riddle exists on a vulnerable border between the acceptable and the illicit, it highlights what is subversive in the novel and also collapses what we have been conditioned to think of as the gulf between the underworld and the respectable world (2000, pp. 319–20).

She speculates that this bawdy riddle may be the cornerstone to a number of clues pointing back to Mr. Woodhouse:

Through a series of covert allusions, Austen raises the ludicrous and hilarious possibility that the clearly asexual Mr Woodhouse might have been a libertine in his youth and now suffers from tertiary syphilis. For example, Emma’s father, a hypochondriac, cannot bear to be cold and so prefers a fire, even in midsummer; the riddle’s narrator, ill with venereal disease, also longs for fire to cure him. […] Further, it is also deliciously, though seditiously, funny that one of the repeated cures for venereal disease was a light diet mostly consisting of a thin gruel (ibid., p. 320).

Some scholars assume that Emma’s sourcing the riddle—perhaps sanitized of its lewd associations by the early 19th century—from Elegant Extracts was a mistake on Jane Austen’s part (see Selwyn, p. 199; Shapard FN 53, p. 139). Arnie Perlstein, however, argues that this is highly unlikely:

To believe that this is Jane Austen’s mistake is to somehow reconcile in your mind two opposite things: that Jane Austen demonstrated a learned knowledge of the provenance of the Riddle having, in its original published versions, been attributed to Garrick’s authorship and having had three stanzas, and was very clever all the way through, but then blundered badly by placing the Riddle in an absurdly, grotesquely inappropriate contemporary publication venue (n.p.).

Susan Allen Ford writes that if the Elegant Extracts misdirection is in fact part of Austen’s joke, the citation “highlights the distance between the sexual play in which [Emma], however unwittingly, is engaged and the ‘merry [evening] games’ of Abbey Mill Farm [vol 1, ch. 4; p. 17], perhaps in its invocation of disease even suggesting Hartfield’s distance from the bucolic health of the Martin home” (n.p.).3 My First Doth Affliction Denote… Emma and Harriet owe to Mr. Elton “their two or three politest puzzles” (vol. 1, ch. 9; p. 45). Heydt-Stevenson argues that this emphasis is further evidence that Emma (and Austen) are aware of the brutality of the “Kitty” riddle (2000, p. 320); it is also yet another linking in the novel of Mr. Elton to the word “gallant,” given that he is “most earnestly careful that nothing ungallant, nothing that did not breathe a compliment to the sex [that is, women] should pass his lips” (ibid.).4 Mr. Elton’s first attempt at contributing to the riddle-book is a charade which Austen calls “well-known,” though she “offers no hint as to where it might be found, and she does not explicitly furnish a solution to it” (Sheehan, n.p.). A charade is a specific type of riddle “in which clues provide the individual syllables of the key word” (Tandon, FN 11, p. 103); the solution typically furnished to this particular charade is “woman” (the first syllable being “woe,” and the second “man”).5 Colleen Sheehan writes that this answer “is certainly a fitting solution to the charade,” but is perhaps “insufficiently clever”; the “author of Emma […] challenges her readers to discern the intent of her composition,” “not to be ‘too quick’ or insufficiently clever in our conclusions” (n.p). An additional answer is yielded by employing the “Shakespearean technique of reversal/inversion” (like that caused by Puck’s enchanted dew in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, which is referenced later in Emma) and taking note of “how Austen uses this technique to play on the different connotations of English and French words”:

If the denotation of affliction is “fiel,” which in French means a painful swelling, though in eighteenth century English usage it meant comfortable or at ease; and that which feels this is the “heart,” then, following Bottom’s rule, the charade’s solution is “heartfiel.” “Heartfiel” is of course a play on “Hartfield,” the home of the mischievous fairy Emma and her all too lively and unrestrained fancy; it is “where the wound had been given” and where “the cure [must] be found” [vol. 1, ch. 18; p. 93]. Quite literally, “heartfiel” is at once the heart’s pain and that which eases the pain, or the heart’s ease. Clearly Austen is having a sporting good time at her readers’ expense (n.p.).

Footnotes

On the syntax of this sentence see Dry, p. 94.

See also Merrett: “Emma lacks [a] sense of connection [between imagination and learning] both because her imagination is often merely whimsical and because there is an abstract cast to her thinking that displaces empirical ideas. […] Emma lazily surrenders her agency and identity to a weak imagination and perversely turns away from both reason and empirical ideas” (p. 41).

On this riddle see also Sheehan, who suggests the answer “love-in-idleness.” On charades, games, and riddles in Emma see also Heydt-Stevenson (2015).

On the word “gallant” in Emma see Wiesenfarth (pp. 16–7).

See for example Shapard (FN 15, p. 123); Tandon (FN 12, p. 103).

Discussion Questions

What is the relationship between real feeling and form in courtship? How might this relationship interact with the themes of signs, perception, honesty, and dishonesty in the novel?

What do you think causes Emma’s appreciation for riddles, and what does this suggest about her?

Which suggested answer do you find most convincing for each of the riddles proffered in this section? Can you furnish any of your own?

Bibliography

Austen, Jane. Emma (Norton Critical Edition). 3rd ed. New York: W. W. Norton & Company, [1815] 2000. Chabot, C. Larry. “Jane Austen’s Novels: The Vicissitudes of Desire.” American Imago 32.3 (Fall 1975), pp. 288–308. Dry, Helen. “Syntax and Point of View in Jane Austen’s Emma.” Studies in Romanticism 16.1 (Winter 1977), pp. 87–99. DOI: 10.2307/25600065. Ford, Susan Allen. “Reading Elegant Extracts in Emma: Very Entertaining!” Persuasions On-Line 28.1 (Winter 2007). Heydt-Stevenson, Jill. “‘Slipping into the Ha-Ha’: Bawdy Humor and Body Politics in Jane Austen’s Novels.” Nineteenth-Century Literature 55.3 (December 2000), pp. 309–39. DOI: 10.2307/2903126. _____. “Games, Riddles and Charades.” In The Cambridge Companion to ‘Emma,’ ed. Peter Sabor. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press (2015), pp. 150–65. DOI: 10.1017/CBO9781316014226.013. Merrett, Robert James. “The Concept of Mind in Emma.” English Studies in Canada 6.1 (Spring 1980), pp. 39–55. DOI: 10.1353/esc.1980.0046. Mudrick, Marvin. Jane Austen: Irony as Defense and Discovery. Princeton: Princeton University Press (1952). Perlstein, Arnie. “Kitty A Fair But Bowdlerized Maid.” Sharp Elves Society. Blogspot. 24 February, 2014. https://sharpelvessociety.blogspot.com/2014/02/kitty-fair-but-bowdlerized-maid.html. Accessed 10 December, 2021. Selwyn, David. Jane Austen and Leisure. London: Hambledon Press (1999).

Sheehan, Colleen A. “The Riddles of Emma.” Persuasions 22 (2000), pp. 50–61. Tandon, Bharat ed. Emma: An Annotated Edition. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press (2012). Wiesenfarth, Joseph. “The Civility of Emma.” Persuasions 18 (1996), pp. 8–23.

#Jane Austen #Emma #Emma Woodhouse #Harriet Smith #Mr. Elton #e

[laryna6]

I love the The Gods Must Be Crazy movies as an Autistic person because they show that someone can have a totally different POV and way of doing things from typical allistic Western culture and it’s not that they’re dumb? They’re smart and sensible and their way of life works great and doesn’t need ‘fixing’ and actually have you considered that Western culture and capitalism are deeply fucked up?

But I’m like yeah... South African director, it’s clear the intent was anti-racist but some would have crept in, so I went to look.

For context on the film, MC is a black man from a traditional black culture shown as being totally self-determinating and very happy because of it, and his quest to tell white culture ‘take your shit back we don’t want it.’ The narration describes him concluding this white dude is a god bc he’s clearly completely incapable of surviving on his own (In the desert) so it’s got to be god powers keep him alive. This entitles him to no respect whatsoever, as per the title, because black people do great on their own and don’t need shit from white people or gods.

There are three additional pov charas/plotlines, A white South African woman who, after narration on how her culture is fucking idiotic (especially compared to the much smarter black people), decides ‘I Don’t Want Any/fuck this shit I’m out,’ and specifically goes for an opportunity to be of service to black people, which in context of apartheid = reparations?

A white man studying elephant poop, who outside of that one (1) area of competence, is extremely clumsy, suffers from crippling social anxiety in certain situations (Relatable to me as an autistic person), and can’t get anything to go well despite his efforts. He needs to be constantly bailed out by the far more competent and intelligent black men in the cast, for which they are paid and profusely thanked, ofc. So there’s a sympathetic white male character? But he should never be in charge of anything, ever. Leaving white people in charge of shit is how cars end up in trees.

A white terrorist trying to overthrow a democratic African black-ruled nation. The black people in his army are the only black people in the cast who aren’t shown as competent, intelligent and with their shit together, because rather than white people, much less white leadership, making Africa ‘better’ white people should never be in charge of anything on this continent ever.

Black man’s interaction with white people ends with white dude thanking him for saving the day and his love interest from the white terrorist and trying to give the MC his pay, but as another black dude points out ‘he doesn’t need your shit’ and dude is like ‘should I give him something else to repay him for his expertise and heroism?’ ‘Nah, white man has nothing the black man needs’ and the MC goes off to complete his quest, return to his family, and conclude that white people/the gods are useless morons, totally irrevalent to his life and that’s the way it should be.

I think the problem is that it was written for a South African audience and the specific way it condemned apartheid and white culture’s domination was very biting for them, but then it got to the international audience right when people were trying to raise apartheid, and the condemnation of apartheid by its absence was interpreted as trying to pretend that apartheid didn’t exist and wasn’t fucking evil.

I read a novel set in that era of South Africa, and every white man had to serve in the army between certain ages, got this deluge of ‘these people are inferior and we should be ready to kill them to protect our superior way of life.’

So, for that audience, a movie that shows African people being smart and sensible and their traditional ways of life being really great? While on the other hand when the movie briefly cuts to South Africa, the narration goes ‘your way of life is completely fucking ridiculous and you should be ashamed/the San are much smarter than you’ and the white main character introduced in the segment goes ‘fuck this shit I’m out.’

Apartheid is not mentioned in that segment, or at all... but the white character who is ‘I don’t want to live here and be part of this’ specifically looks for an opportunity to be of use to black people. To an American audience, that’s ‘oh charity, black people clearly need a white person’s help,’ but to a South African audience, not only does this White Woman They Are Protecting think their way of life fucking sucks, she feels that what she should do with her life is pay reparations for being a part of it.

The San people were actively in the process of being fucked over by apartheid when the film was released, which made international critics go ‘uh... why is what South Africa’s doing to them not being addressed?’ but to an audience that was marinated in apartheid instead of needing to raise awareness, the fact the film is about a black man going ‘you people are fucking crazy and my culture doesn’t need your shit/is better off without you’ and being completely right about this?

Showing the San way of life in practice, when South Africa was actively fucking them over is ‘here is what you are ruining. These people would be doing great without you, you should be ashamed. If you think your way of life is worth this then you’re fucking crazy.’

But yeah. Take that ‘everybody would be better off without your culture and apartheid’ and bring it to a international audience where rather than being marinated in apartheid, people are trying to raise awareness, ofc it’s going to seem to depict ‘the situation in South Africa isn’t actually fucking horrible!’

The other main criticism is the African soldiers in the film: incompetence in service of the plot is one thing for storm troopers, but with black people it plays into nasty tropes. That one got addressed into the sequel, which went more in depth into ‘the violence in Africa is due to non-black people, white and otherwise, fucking around to seize power (first film) or fight proxy wars (second) and they need to fucking stop.’

The movie gets accused of ‘showing black people as fine under white domination,’ but’ *points to first film’s soldiers. In the film, the San aren’t under white rule and are much better off for it. The government and judge shown in two different regions are black. The only black people shown under white domination are the troops of the white terrorist leader... and these are the only black people not depicted as entirely competent. So rather it’s ‘black people ruling themselves is great, it’s white people coming in and bossing them around and assassinating their governments that’s fucking up Africa,’ as opposed to white domination and the spreading of white culture being a good thing.

There’s a scene where a room full of black schoolchildren laugh at a white man, and the viewer is meant to relate to them in this scene: his social-stress-induced-clumsyness is fucking hilarious - like Three Stooges except he’s not getting hurt so.

The representative of white manhood has one (1) area of competence but when it comes to literally everything else he should never be in charge of anything ever and needs to be bailed out by the far more competent and smart black people who ofc are getting paid and repeatedly thanked for this. I love this as an autistic person, bc one special interest + being really fucking clumsy + aaaaa social interaction = it me. His final interaction with the protag is thanking him for saving the day and his love interest and giving him his pay and protag is like ‘why are you handing me your useless white people shit?’ re money.

#racism #the gods must be crazy

[kamari3]

I have a question about Underlust(main story not fanart), and was redirected here by Alaina. What exactly sort of content does it contain that makes it 18+? Because even saying 'sexual stuff' or 'NSFW' covers a big range, I feel. I don't really like a lot of that sort of sex stuff but I have absolutely enjoyed stories containing it before, I know how to skim and self-moderate to some degree if the story is worth it to me. BUT, that's a lot harder for me with images than with just text. Thoughts?

hahaha oh gosh i usually get questions like this on my art/ask blog @kamari333 !! gonna feel weird seeing this level of undertale coming from me over here XD ok so lets look at underlust

please forgive the sloppy typing i'm on my phone (as per usual)

edited to add a readmore-

underlust was made by @nsfwshamecave years ago, back when they, Niel, was using that blog for the sake of freedom of sexual and self expression. that was their horny on main blog. so, reason #1 that underlust is NSFW is because the creator of it was primarily NSFW and asked us to treat it that way so kiddos didnt end up crawling all over her lewds

reason number two is that Niel made a lot of lewd content using Underlust. a lot. it was super great. just- just the absolute motherload of undertale themed smut. (god i miss them). they shipped sansby, they shipped papdyne, they ESPECIALLY SHIPPED PAPYTON and in my opinion underlust is the BEST papyton ever! they shipped OCs and they shipped papcest and sanscest and occasionally fontcest but not as much and it was just- All The Ship Must Sail ok? ships everywhere and ships shipped with a cargo full of 5-star lewds

now we get into the meat of Underlust: the story. Niel never managed to write the full thing before they quit the fandom for personal reasons, and what they did write was out of order and fragmented between asks and disorderly posts, so i'll do my best to kind of sum it all up chronologically... Please keep in mind there may be some stuff in here that could upset you so i'll try to put tags for trigger warnings i think of as i go

Toriel and Asgore are about to have a kid, but the moment they are born, the child dusts. its implied its a miscarriage. In one ask, where someone asked Toriel about Asriel, all Toriel could answer with was "Who?" because she never even had the kid long enough to give them a name. So Uh. That kind of heavy content isn't necessary safe for kids.

The kiddo's dust somehow gets onto a rose that grows underground and thats how Rosie the Rose comes into existence.

At some point, a fully adult Chara falls and shows off a lot of horny on main energy. they are a huge sadist. I will say I am uncertain about the specifics of their canonical relationship with the dreemurrs.

Gaster studied the traits in Chara's soul, trying to make something to help with all the not-making-baby syndrome going on among the monsters (which, my phrasing aside, was pretty serious for a population of creatures with dwindling numbers). He tested on himself and his two sons, but only ended up putting them in a constant state of heat. thats LUST. Niel never went too deep into the lore of what exactly LUST is, so I have my own personal headcanons quietly on my side of the fandom haha.

Eventually everyone of adult age got the LUST. So now just about everyone in the underground, save the few kids, have horny on main syndrome. it doesnt actually help with the baby making though.

So there is another reason underlust is NSFW: constant heat, and human experimentation.

Fast forward and then the most fleshed out part of Underlust happens: The Events of the Papyton comic. You can still find these floating around online, reposted on pillowfort and in my discord haha.

Prepare for spoilers.

Prologue: Papyrus is lonely and super super wants respect, recognition, and love. So he goes to Undyne to train to get into the Royal Harem. Its implied that the job of the Royal Harem isnt just to fuck Asgore (who lost his wife at some undisclosed point- Toriel is in the ruins now) but to fuck everyone in the underground who wants/needs the sex. So like, its a government funded brothel? Undyne does train Papyrus (which apparently includes endurance training and edging- the one picture we got was pretty hot ngl- for a lesbian undyne knows her way around a dong), but she sees right away that even though he is amazing at sex, he doesnt have the right mindset to be in the harem. Pap is too emotional, too clingie. so she isnt letting him in.

On Mettaton's Side: Alphys builds mettaton a body that he loves and syncs with instantly. He goes on his quiz show to debut his body and hes happy with the attention, but after the show, two guys from the audience corner him outside and... uh... rape him. No sugar coating that. It is very violent and noncon. Tonton is permanently scarred in body and soul after that.

So theres more content thats NSFW and probably doesnt need to be in kid safe spaces. The whole rape thing.

Alphys finds him and even though he cant just leave his body, she helps fix him up and modifies his look so he is more comfortable.

But, uh... He is Not Okay. That was seriously traumatic and even though he pushes through it for his quiz show he has a lot of issues since most of his audience isnt interested in the science or history or learning part, they just wanna catcall him.

But he gets this one Fan who calls in correct answers and sends him really sweet fanmail.

And its Papyrus. Papyrus is Tonton's number one fan.

And eventually Papyrus goes to the show live and asks Mettaton out on a date. Its cute as balls. Just. A montage of fluffy respectful date fun and just- SCREAM. its great!

And then Mettaton's rapists show up. And they make to do it again. Papyrus tries to stop it but he gets beat up. He does encourage Tonton to fight back. which he does. and almost murders them. He's super emotional and says some mean things to papyrus too.

But stuff happens. Forgiveness. Healing. A kiss. Listen it's a story about how your trauma doesnt have to define you and it's definitely not for kids but its a good fucking story ok?!

Theres also a sidestory about mutual pining sansby which is also cute as fuck.

The themes of Underlust are sexual expression, how appearances can be misleading, how trauma doesnt have to define your life and how you can heal, and most importantly, that Love is more important then Lust.

The story was never finished, but there was talk and visual hints of adding themes of like how asexuality is valid and you can love people without sex, and how having sex and being unashamed doesnt making you gross, and platonic love being just as good as romantic love, and all this great stuff, but at the time niel was having more fun making lewds and just living her best life, so a lot of story and thematic elements were left unfinished

So... yeah. That's Underlust.

The cliffnotes version anyway.

The designs are amazing and iconic af. I especially love Blooky being an angry stoner. Asexual Nonbinary (21yo) Frisk is great! Its a beautiful AU with a lot of love in it and it makes you feel like its safe to be as lewd or not lewd as you want to be. But it is NOT an AU for kiddos. Not at all.

#is this nsfw? #gonna tag some trigger warnings #miscarriage #child loss #rape tw #underlust

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Tuesday 12 November 1839

8 20/..

1

Mr. de R- at 9 ¾ - to 11 ½ - breakfast till 12 ¼ - our salon at 11 ½ F59° = about R+2° - now at 12 35/.. F60 ½° = R12 ½° - 1st lesson in botany this morning – the 2 families of Chara and Equisetum brought 1 (the 1st) 4to. no. of a work by Reichenberger or some such name (only 2 nos. published) on the cryptogarnia – and his dried plants form part of a collection to which he subscribes – a society at Eschlingan? or some such name near Stutgard [Stuttgart] sends out a botanist to collect plants which are furnished to the subscribers – the collector now in Abyssinia

by subscription now, one should get the Abyssinian collection – Mr. Fisher much better now but has been very much deranged  I had he said of course observed that she was very singular  yes ssaid I   but the fact is that being besides herself had not once occurred to me – Mr. Alexander F- very clever – but likely perhaps to meet with little désagrémens from the present chef de l’académie – from the academy 5,000/. and from the university 5000/. per annum with house chauffage et éclairage – vid. Hookers’ work on the Crypotgarniae – had just written so far when countess A. Panin called and brought with her Madame Nerfilieff a fineish looking woman aet. about 30? or not so much – the countess evidently the more instruite et spirituelle of the 2 – mais nous verrons – spoke of countess Orloff – her study and having seen [?]  made for her, and having seen her portrait – she is aunt to count Panin, and now aet. about 52 – count P-‘s mother sent word she would be glad to make our acquaintance – the parties do not begin till the end of the Russian November or beginning of December – la belle of last night was princess Sophie Galitizin née Balk – had talked some while with A- and just written so far now at 2 25/..pm. – out at 3 – to Mathias to get the cap of yesterday altered a little and A- bought green velvet bonnet = 55/. and looked at different things – then to our boulevard – there at 4 5/.. and took 3 turns, A- and I, in about an hour - .:. home about 5 10/.. – as I came in sent to ask if princess R- was well enough to receive me answer yes! tho’ it seemed as if she was at dinner – she said however that she had just done – the table was cleared – and she received me in her bedroom – she was suffering from her eyes – cramp in the eyeballs – I took off hat and shawl and then the black silk handkerchief round my throat  it was a gaucherie?   very civil etc. but somehow it annoyed me afterwards that I had done all this    mentioned the princess Sophie Galitzin of last night painted    affected   it seems princess R- has known her from her infancy  they are not intimate but très bien together  she is good and surely not painted  has always been very red one cheek red, and the other painted a little to be like it – mentioned the countess being so good   kissed me twice I said she princess R- had never done this    I thought she ought and said this in a sort of manner she understood  she smiled and said it was not the custom of her family  except their father and mother – we talked over Lady Flora Hastings etc. came upstairs at 5 40/.. – dressed – dinner at 6 10/.. to 6 40/.. – walked about with A- 25 minutes – then wrote the last 14 lines till now 7 ½ when the princess sent to say tea was ready – prince and princess Ourousoff (the father and mother) there – tea – and then came count and countess Koutaitsoff and the old English lady – Everybody dull – particularly the Koutaisoffs [Koutaitsoff] – they went away just princess R- had her supper – A- and I staid till she had, and immediately came away at 9 40/.. – she kissed me on coming away slightly – but it was evident she remembered what I had said before dinner and it was at least poli de sa part – she was not sorry when we came away tonight – was she plus souffrante qu’à l’ordinaire? or quel malaise nous affligerait tous?  A- and I sat talking till 10 ½ - A- observed that even I seemed to partake the general dullness – she sat knitting her slipper – excused ourselves from going to the marriage tomorrow because not being invited to go to the house and having nothing but black to wear I would not go to church to be a bad omen – none but married ladies invited to the house of the bride – this a little

SH:7/ML/E/23/0125

laid aside now among the nobles but not among the merchants – the marriage ceremony still a little à la Tartare – vid. Kupffer voyage dans l’Oural p. 38 et seq. – countess K- (speaking of our going to the Roman Catholic church tomorrow and this led to the Greek church) observed that they (not excluding herself) prayed to Saints as to God – on my saying I thought they had only prayed to them as intermédiaires, princess said this was the case; but the people prayed to them as God – this too seemed to be count k-‘s idea – wrote the last 14 ½ lines till now 10 ¾ - fine day – F62 ½° on my table now at 10 50/.. – afterwards at Russian Grammar

[franstastic-ideas]

FellFluff: How do the six fallen humans between Frisk and Chara come into the story?

Ok, so their situation is sort of similar to how it is in Keepers of the Ruins - they’re still around, and the duration of time between the falling humans is greatly reduced, probably.

Asgore and Toriel didn’t adopt them, per se. They’re sort of community property? See, to break the barrier, the Underground needs six SOULs. However, Asgore has a hunch that nobody really explicitly said those SOULs had to be absorbed in order for that to happen.

So his big idea was that these humans should stay here in the Underground, they convince the humans to join forces with them and learn their secrets, and then by the time they break the barrier with their help and reach the surface, the monsters will have several human allies to aid them - sorta like what they had planned for Chara.

Well, the monsters never tried to hurt them, and the humans didn’t really want to hurt them either since the denizens of the Underground were basically completely harmless, so the six fallen have cozied up at different sections of the Underground and they’ll help Frisk on her journey.

Patience is staying with Toriel at the Ruins, Bravery is wandering the woods of Snowdin, Integrity is in Waterfall and can often be found with Riverperson, Perseverance is studying under Gerson (she can also be seen in Temmie Village), Kindness runs a humble little food stand in Hotland, and Justice is co-workers with Burgerpants.

Also, as for why Papyrus still doesn’t know what a human looks like even though there are six (technically seven if we count Chara’s astral projection, and eight after Frisk’s fallen) humans running around in the Underground is - he keeps missing them.

No, really. By some stroke of weird fate, he always ends up missing seeing the humans until he meets Frisk. 

He never sees Patience because she prefers staying at the Ruins. He’s had some close calls with Bravery, but they keep missing each other to be precise, because Bravery absolutely would approach him if he saw Papyrus. Integrity keeps slipping by him too whenever he’s in Waterfall to visit Undyne. Perseverance is with Gerson, and he’s usually at his shop. Kindness’s stand is always closed during the rare times Papyrus is in Hotland, and Burgerpants is the one working the front at MTT’s Burger Emporium whenever he has to extract Sans from the restaurant for eating the mustard packets.

And why Papyrus doesn’t recognize Chara as a human, even though her image is captured in several artworks around the Underground?

He thought she was supposed to be an angel.

#franstastic answers #fallen humans #papyrus #FellFluff #underfell #headcanons

[chronosbled]

@anomieheld asked: 👶🏻 hi, for Yuu and Elyon ???? If you don't mind ???

send me 👶🏻and i’ll hc about our muses’ child

Name: Onichiro Kurae-Hyakuya or Onichiro Kurae-Amane

Birthdate: September 2nd

Personality Headcanon: Onichiro is a very sweet and gentle-hearted child who sees only the positive things in life. He doesn’t believe in things like violence and has a hard time wrapping his heard around why people use such methods to get the things they want in life. He is always quick to try and make others feel better about themselves and will even bring them things like flowers to make them smile when they’re upset. He isn’t the brightest child in the world, but he always tries his best to learn the same things as his older siblings.

What was their first word and how old were they when they said it: Onichiro’s very first word most likely would have been ‘hungry’ because just like his mother, he would have the largest apatite any baby has ever had. He was most likely eight months old when this occurred.

Did they get in trouble in school: There’s not much trouble that an eight year old can get into at school, not unless he was a little scrapper like his father was, but even then he got his ass handed to him by uncle Mika so lord have mercy. Hopefully his fighting skills come from his uncle.

Which parent were they more attached to: Onichiro is actually extremely attached to his mother, Elyon, due to the fact that he really likes to listen to her talk about astronomy. He thinks that all the things he hears about the pretty stars is fascinating.

What was their favorite toy: It wasn’t really a toy per say, but he really likes the model of the solar system that his mother has set up within her study. Of course he never actively touches it because he doesn’t want to break it, but he likes to watch it move and sometimes even pretends his mother is discovering all sorts of different things about the planets like some kind of astronaut.

Did they cry a lot as a baby: Yes, in fact, Onichiro probably cried the most out of his siblings due to the fact he was born somewhat sickly. Even now that he’s older he’s still somewhat prone to getting sick easier than Yune and Lyu.

Movie they watched over and over: Anything that can educate him about astronomy. He wants to learn all that he can so he can show his mother just what he knows, even if he tends to forget what he learned right after hearing it because he’s got big baby brain still thanks to his father.

What was their favorite subject in school: Considering he’s not really old enough to have a favorite subject yet, he probably likes literature the most since he affiliates it with story time.

Were they social growing up or quiet: Unlike his mother, and father in the very beginning, Onichiro is actually very sociable and loves to make friends or even just pretty much talk to anyone that will listen to him/give him attention. He’s unbelievably friendly.

Which parent do they take after: Onichiro probably mostly takes after his father, Yuichiro, considering the fact that he’s not very intelligent, or rather... he’s more interested in playing with his siblings than officially learning anything that isn’t about astronomy.

What do they grow up to be: Once Onichiro grows up, he goes on to study astronomy just like his mother, except to a more extreme degree rather than just a hobby. He often can be found researching how one is able to decipher what can be classified as a star and what can be classified as another planet.

Three random headcanons: 1. Despite only being eight years old, Onichiro has a tendency to get into trouble without even realizing it. Majority of the time, he ends up stumbling upon something that he shouldn’t and somehow gets dragged into the situation, sometimes he even ends up making it worse when he’s only trying to help. This often results in his mother or father having to come get him.                                                  2. One time, when he was three months old, he ended up throwing up on Mikaela due to having an upset stomach while he was sick. While his uncle wasn’t mad at him, it ended up becoming a story that gets told every time he comes to visit.                                                  3. Surprisingly, Onichiro doesn’t like curry. In fact, he actually finds curry to be disgusting and often refuses to eat it whenever it’s severed for dinner. Yuichiro swears that their real child must have been swapped at birth with Onichiro, this usually ends with Elyon slapping the back of Yuichiro’s head.

Likes & dislikes: Likes — Astronomy, his parents, his siblings, reading books with his father, learning about astronomy with his mother, playing with his sister and brother, visiting his uncle, listening to certain kinds of music, playing outside, picking flowers for his mother and sister, drawing.                              Dislikes — Sudden loud sounds, when he sees people fighting, getting in trouble, doing something wrong, being scolded, breaking things (even if by accident), when his siblings fight, seeing his parents fight, being told he isn’t smart enough for certain things, being coddled too much when he gets hurt.

Do they get along with their parents: Onichiro gets along fairly well with his parents, even if he sometimes makes Elyon wonder why she ended up with an idiot such as his father since he behaves just like him. Excluding the hot-headedness of course.

Face Claim: Tadase Hotori — Shugo Chara

#anomieheld #☦ [ ' 🅣🅐🅚🅘🅝🅖 🅣🅗🅔🅘🅡 🅢🅣🅔🅟🅢 🅣🅗🅡🅞🅤🅖🅗 🅛🅞🅥🅔; 🅞🅝🅔 🅣🅡🅘🅐🅛 🅐🅣 🅐 🅣🅘🅜🅔. ' ] - ✡ 🅨🅤🅤🅔🅛🅨 ✡ #{ Please forgive me for the fact that Yuu has no ask banner. } #{ And the fact I need to redo tags for him. } #{ I haven't actively used him in forever. } #{ I went ahead and tossed Onichiro into the YuuEly verse where they already have Yune and Lyu so I hope that's okay! } #( Now they got a sixteen year old; a fifteen year old; and an eight year old. } #{ Or at least I can somewhat remember that Yune is sixteen and Lyu was fifteen. } #{ Cause I remember Miko and Shei (the Mikanoa kids) both being sixteen since they're twins. } #{ But I hope that you like him! } #{ I had a lot of fun doing this! }

[subir-astrologer]

WILL JUPITER’S ASPECT ON SATURN EASE AN EVENT IN HOROSCOPE

There is a misconception that Saturn will delay or deny an event where ever it is placed in the horoscope. No no this is absolutely wrong understanding.

The aspect of Jupiter is definitely good on Saturn and it will also minimize the quality signified by Saturn as per the horoscope when Saturn is placed in 5th house getting jupiter’s aspect from 11th house.

One need to learn about the specific event signified by 5th house for the purpose of analysis to analyze if that event is a promised in the horoscope because not all events of 5th house happen at same time.

One need to bear in mind that Saturn’s placement is not going to deny nor create hurdles every time it is place there in 5th house and if the planet is place in a very comfortable, will give excellent results also.

There is no guarantee that the aspect of Jupiter from 11th house will grant the event of 5th house even if it is denied or shows hurdle as the signification of Jupiter itself also needed to be studied and its not that the ascpect of Jupiter will always be beneficial.

For example : For libra and capricorn ascendant if the Jupiter is placed in 11th house then it will create hurdles as it is the lord of 6th and 12th house respectively and 11th house acts as badhakesh for all chara lagna / movable sign ascendant.

Secondly one need to take all the other planets contributions in consideration as their impacts also matter and astrology is not between 2 planets.

There are many more parameters that is needed to be studied before arriving at a prediction of a specific event as per a particular horoscope.

In a nutshell in general the 11th house aspect of Jupiter on 5th house Saturn is good but in general is not a dictum that will come true for all horoscope under this same condition / placement.

#jupiter aspects #jupiter aspects astrology #jupiter aspects effects in astrology #astrology #vedic astrology #astrologer #vedic astrologer #horoscope readings #horoscope #horoscopes #horoscope posts #horoscope analysis #vedicastrology #daily astrology #daily horoscope #kundli #remedies

[sanchoyo]

Ichigo x Lettuce, Ichigo x Mint, Berry x Pudding x Ringo. I'd ask about IchiMint, but I know your thoughts already

I tried to limit myself to (1) square per ship which was very hard, bc I have A Lot of feelings 😔

Ichigo/Lettuce: aestheticly it's GREAT. I think any of the mews w Ichigo works well and is cute. But also: watermelon palette 4 these two 🍉

Hikalala: 😭❤💕💖: LISTEEEEENNNN. the whole dynamic. The movie. The endddd where Hikaru literally bcomes an astronaut when she's an adult to see her alien gf again-- meaning she spent her teenage yrs longing and waiting and studying hard for her I-- I NEED TO LIE DOWN

Ichimint: they make me unwell (Aka I'm gone for them): u said u already kno but I just gotta say it. once again v aesthetic, pink/blue cute palette, the amount of chara development mint has from meeting Ichigo, Ichigo being her first real friend and the teasing but genuine caring...when Ichigo was having a crisis abt the DB situation and mint was the one who snapped her out of it w tough love... ooough there's so much. 🥺

Pudding/berry/ringo: I'm open to it: it's cute!! Group babies. I tend to ship berry w tasuku just bc I think the childhood friends trope is cute, but I'm not opposed to her w anyone else!! Also pudding/Ringo is PRECIOUS (shy sweet girl w rambunctious girl?? Love it)

Ty for asking 🥺💕

#tmm #sanchoyoanswersasks #all of them r cute. ur taste is immaculate #spectralreplica #precure

[dfhkala]

So I switched the multipliers

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[saemi-the-writer]

Caretaker AU - AU writings and montages dump

Congratulations to @caretaker-au creators for finishing their story! (and they are more bonuses on the way, yeeeees~ )

I took the time to re-read it entirely and found some drafts about it (AU of an AU, same verse as this parody I did a while back) and more montages about with their comic in my folders. Oh dear! xD

 I am posting them all -in chronologically order of the events- undercut. It’s unfinished, but I MIGHT wrap it up if inspiration strikes again xD

Note: I WROTE THIS 4 YEARS AGO. I included some of my own headcanons in there, like Frisk’s full name, which is different from Caretaker AU’s canon.

-------------------------------------------------------

Chara re-winded the video for the umpteenth time, zooming on another zone to study their adoptive child’s attitude closely. After slowing significantly the speed of the video playback, they launched it again.

 Frisk was drawing quietly, sitting on a chair at some distance from them -Asriel, Chara and the new scientist- when the incident happened, when that clumsy assistant unwillingly created a potential destructive weapon with that huge (and heavy!) cylinder. The thing had taken off like a rocket and bounced back on the lab floor, then went to a wall only to rebound against it and then on another area and so on, creating panic inside; the image jumped as it happened, it was a miracle the security camera had not been destroyed during the incident. Their child startled at the commotion, then looked at the rocket with wide and frightened eyes before taking cover under a table -as Asriel and themselves had shouted them to while dodging the dangerous thing and trying to find shelter too- and stayed there a moment, their gaze following the cylinder in fear. Their gaze scanned around a moment and suddenly, Frisk’s expression passed from scared to resolute. The child got on their feet and got out of their hiding spot.

 Chara paused, went back a bit and de-zoomed to determine the cause of this abrupt change.

 The “rocket” was heading towards them. Chara had not noticed it at the time, too busy shouting at the staff to either stop that damn thing or evacuate everyone, whereas Asriel seemed to have seen it, given his expression.

 Play.

 Frisk had rushed to grasp a tool on the table; luckily a big one, like a baseball bat and placed themselves on the path, steadying their position. They had called out for Asriel then, as the rocket drew near, the child’s grasp on their makeshift weapon tightened and they swung with all their might. The hit sent the cylinder flying away however the impact casted Frisk backwards too. Fortunately, Chara had been there to catch them. The two had rolled on the ground while Asriel used his magic: plants grew in an accelerated manner under the tiling and grabbed the damn thing, slowing its mad race and their husband stood as if he were about to catch a baseball ball thrown at him. The impact had him slipping quite a distance backwards, but he did not lose his balance.

 Pause. Zoom.

 The damage on the cylinder… Frisk really did that.

Granted, the tool had been solid (fortunately for them all) but still. It was impressive. And they were only eleven.

Frisk had always been a child who had a tremendous energy and a strong will, also full of stamina, way sportier than them and Asriel together… which had forced the two of them to train harder to keep up with their little one but now was not the time to dwell on that.

 Chara went back again, paused at a precise moment and zoomed.

That look of determination.

Could it be?

 Chara had lost their ability to control time and shape the world about three years ago, which had been a great loss for them, they had to be even more careful with any decision. Maybe Frisk was now the one to hold on this power…

 But Frisk was their child.

 This happened because they had been in danger.

 Frisk had accomplished this in order to protect them, surely, they would have done the same for Asriel.

 And they were strong, oh so much stronger than Chara had thought.

 So much potential.

 Chara leaned back on their chair; a smile made its way to their face.

 “Time to start your training, dearest.”

 ------------------------------------------------------------------------

Convincing Asriel had been easier than they had anticipated, the human Prince did not even have to use their prepared speech.

“I understand. The sooner they will know how to defend themselves, the better.” Asriel had sighed when Chara announced him they intended to train Frisk to fight, taking them by surprise. “We don’t know what kind of human could fall next, and it could be sooner than we think… I don’t want Frisk to be unprepared in any case, I wish they will never have to use their skills into a fight but-“ he had then stared at his husband intensely. “Just like I said the day I gave you your knife: if it saves their life, it’s worth having it.”

Chara had felt their heart raced slightly at this declaration and planted a gentle kiss on their Prince’s cheek, both pleased and proud of how wise he had become.

 ------------------------------------------------------------------------

 “Frisk, you do not have any class in the afternoon today, do you?”

 Frisk looked at their mother and shook their head as they were chewing on their toast.

 “Today is Wednesday, we never have any class in the afternoon on Wednesdays.” they precised after swallowing. “But I have a training with my team from two to three, why?” the child seized their bowl of hot cocoa and started drinking from it, their eyes on their parent.

 “Three? Then you should be home around half past three.” Chara mused with a short hum. “Good.” They put their cup down to stare at Frisk with a smile. “Following the recent events in the laboratory, your father and I have taken an important decision.”

 The youngest Dreemur blinked, glancing from one of their parents to the other. This seemed serious. Worry raised in the child when they noticed how tensed their father seemed to be, almost grave. Was it because they had acted recklessly in the lab?

 “Am I in trouble?” they asked in a small voice.

 It was their mother’s turn to blink, Asriel and them exchanged confused looks.

 “No, not at all.” the two replied together.

 “Unless you have something to hide.” Chara added with a raised an eyebrow.

 “No, no!” Frisk quickly shook their head. “I thought you were mad because I put myself in danger when I tried to stop that rocket.”

 “Well, you certainly did.” The adult human remarked, joining their hands under their chin. “But you also successfully helped saving us all from it. Which leads to our point.”

 There was a short silence.

 “Frisk, you know Mom is the Caretaker of the Ruins, our protector against any potential evil humans.” Asriel gently patted his child’s head. “Well, someday, you will have to help them in their duty. And for that, you need to be trained.”

 Asriel gazed at their spouse, Frisk did the same.

 “We are going to teach you how to fight.” Chara straightened their back. “And I wish to give you your first lesson today.”

 “Fight?” Frisk repeated in a whisper, tensing slightly.

-------------------------------------

“This is not a game, Fragana.”

Frisk tensed. When their parents called their real name instead of the usual nickname, it was always in serious talks.

---------------------------------------------------------

(* insert timeskip*)

Frisk gasped at the clothes their parents were handing them.

“B-but, is that?...” they sputtered, their eyes going from Dad to Mom.

 “Take them and see for yourself.” Mom encouraged them with a nod of their head while Dad snorted.

Their hands shaking with expectation, the child took one of the garments and let it unfold.

It was a beautiful purplish-blue tunic on which the delta rune adorned the chest, with thin white stripes at the end of its short sleeves; it reached somewhere between their thigh and their knee. Frisk looked up from it and stared at the belt and legging Dad held proudly out to them.

“Surprise sweetie!” he beamed at them.

The child’s smile was still a bit shy as they took them, but they did not forget to kiss their father’s cheek with a thanks. Not sure what to say anymore, they turned to their mom.

 “You’ve proved you were ready during your training.” Chara smiled as they leaned in. “So from now on, you will come with me in the Ruins once per week and learn everything you need to know as their future caretaker.”

Frisk was now smiling widely and started bouncing excitedly. They had certainly not been expecting this! Not so soon! Mom and Dad had only started giving them fight lessons and the plans of the Ruins last year!

 “Really?” they cried out at last.

 “Yes, as long as you do not neglect your homework!” the two Regent Princes precised in a same voice, one holding out a finger in warning, the other with a laugh.

 “I promise I won’t! Thank you!!”

 Frisk rushed to their room to try their new outfit, so excited they did not notice that their grandparents had been recording the whole thing. They quickly put them on and admired their reflection in the mirror, both proud and moved.

 “Just like the two of them!” they chirped and twirled.

 A pair of boots Grandpa and Grandma had given them were matching just fine with this new ensemble; after putting them on Frisk smoothed their short hair and put small white elastic clasp on their longer hair strands -similar to their Mom’s- then the final touch: the pendant.

 Whereas Asriel and Chara’s pendants were silver, Frisk’s was gold and had a special shape: like a human soul outside with a smaller -and in a lighter gold- heart inside, like a monster’s. Two souls for one, human in appearance but a heart like a monster’s: full of love and hope. A “heart of gold”.

 After a last glance to their reflection, satisfied with it, Frisk pranced back to the living room where their family was waiting. Grandma immediately turned her camera on again at their arrival.

“Look at our little princess!” Grandpa exclaimed and held out his arms for them.

Frisk ran to him and laughed as the old King swung them up in his arms before going to their Dad who did the same but kept them against his chest, holding back tears.

“My baby angel is all grown up!” He whispered tearfully as he nuzzled their foreheads together. “You are so beautiful!”

Frisk kissed his cheek again before turning to their mother, who had their hands joined together in front of their mouth. They embraced them both before kissing the Princess’ forehead.

 “Oh Frisk, let me look at you.” They breathed.

 Asriel put the child down and watched with emotion Frisk standing at their full height and outstretching their arms so Chara could fully see how much the clothes fitted them. He could swear his spouse’s eyes were gleaming with repressed tears, which made him smile wider while Frisk spun happily, the hem of their tunic flowing as they did.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Wait Frisk, there is one last thing I must give you.”

Frisk turned back to their dad, who held out a small metal stick to them.

“What is it?” they asked in curiosity, inspecting the object.

“Please be careful!” Asriel held his two hands out, looking concerned. “First, push this button.”

The young princess blinked and did as told, then jumped as the small stick suddenly expanded -becoming as big as their baseball bat- with a discreet clink.

“Asriel?” Chara called out in disbelief. “Did you make this?”

“No, I had it made by one of the new engineers.” The monster Prince scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “Since Frisk is pretty good with a bat and at fighting with stick, I thought it would be best for them to have one when going to the Ruins. But a stick is not very discreet, so I had this idea and asked if it could be made…”

Frisk rotated their new weapon carefully and swung it like they had learnt to do it. It was well balanced and did not slip through their hands.

“It’s great! Thanks Dad!”

“Wait, it’s not all. Now, there is a smaller button underneath…” he gently seized his child’s hand, preventing them to push it at once. “But it’s only for emergencies, and by that, I mean for you to use it at very last resort! You shouldn’t have to use it since Mom will be going with you, but I asked for this addition, really just in case…”

The two humans exchanged a bewildered gaze, Asriel stepped asides and then Frisk cautiously pushed the odd button. The sound was not loud, but the shlink resonating teared the silence. Frisk’s eyes grew wide at the blade coming out from the opposite side of their weapon. They were now holding on a spear.

The child’s attention turned to their mother who had tried to muffle their gasp behind their hands, but while they did seem shock, it was nor fear or worry that glittered in their eyes. But Frisk could not tell what it was, too stunned.

“Oh Asriel!”

Frisk startled when their Mom pounced on their Dad to kiss him in a way they had never did in front of them. The child was now smiling sheepishly, quite astonished by their parents’ sudden public display of affection and binked in surprise when it was their turn to be embraced; and as Chara loudly kissed their cheek, they realized their mom was crying.

“You will do wonderfully, my dear. I am sure of it.” they beamed as their arms tightened around Frisk. “Freedom is near.”

#caretaker au #undertale #chara (undertale) #frisk (undertale) #asriel dremuur #chariel #au of an au #My writing #drafts #WIPs #unfinished

[unholyyyyyy]

Ｃｈａｒａ． Ｓｔｕｄｙ

** bold all that apply to your muse.

EYES: blue / green / brown / hazel / grey / black / color-changing / other

HAIR: blonde / dirty blonde / brown / black / red / grey or white / multi-colored / other

FACIAL HAIR: yes / no / sometimes / often / rarely

BODY TYPE: underweight / slender / slim / built (buff) / curvy / athletic / average / muscular / pudgy / overweight

SKIN: pale (porcelain) / light / fair / yellow undertone / pink undertone / neutral / freckled / tan /  bronze / olive / medium / dark

GENDER IDENTITY: female / male / agender / gender fluid / cisgender / transgender / gender variant / non-binary / none / other

GENDER EXPRESSION: hyper-masculine / hyper-feminine / masculine / feminine / leans masculine / leans feminine / androgynous / neither / in the middle / somewhat fluid / very fluid / it depends / other

PRONOUNS: he, him, his / she, hers / they, them, theirs / mx / it depends / any / none / other

SEXUALITY: straight / gay / bisexual / demisexual / asexual / pansexual / somewhat fluid / very fluid / other

SEXUAL ATTITUDE: sex repulsed / sex neutral / sex favorable / sex tolerant / it varies somewhat / it varies often / other

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: homoromantic / heteroromantic / biromantic / panromantic / aromantic / demiromantic / somewhat fluid / very fluid / other

ROMANTIC ATTITUDE: romance repulsed / romance neutral / romance favorable / romance tolerant / it varies somewhat / it varies often / other

SEXUAL POSITION: top / versatile / bottom / leans top / leans bottom / it depends / it varies somewhat / it varies often / other

SEXUAL ROLE: dominant / switch / submissive / leans dominant / leans submissive / it depends / it varies somewhat / it varies often / other

SEXUAL EXPERIENCES: highly adventurous / open to some new things / experienced / somewhat experienced / moderate / mostly inexperienced / curious / vanilla / naive / other / none

EDUCATION: high school / trade school or certificate / some college / associate’s degree / bachelor’s degree / master’s degree  / doctorate / other

I’VE BEEN: intentionally hurt / severely ill / mentally abused / bullied / physically abused / neglected / tortured / brainwashed / robbed / shot / attacked / other

BEST TRAITS: affectionate / adventurous / athletic / brave / careful / charming / confident / energetic / creative / cunning / determined / forgiving / generous / honest / humorous / intelligent / loyal / modest / patient / selfless / polite / down-to-earth / diligent / moral / fun-loving / charismatic / calm / witty / ambitious / cheerful / practical / stable / tough / passionate / easy-going / dependable / logical / sensitive / open / sociable

WORST TRAITS: aggressive / bratty / conceited / controlling / cynical / shy / fearful / greedy / gullible / jealous / naive / impatient / impulsive / cocky / reckless / insecure / irresponsible / mistrustful / paranoid / possessive / sarcastic / overly self-doubting / selfish / swears too much / unstable / clumsy / rebellious / emotional / vengeful / anxious / self-sabotaging / moody / generally angry / pessimistic / slacker / thin-skinned / dramatic / argumentative

LIVING SITUATION: lives alone / lives with parent(s) or guardian / lives with family / lives with significant other / lives with friend / lives with roommate / drifter / homeless / lives with children

PARENTS/GUARDIANS: mother / father / adoptive parent(s) / foster  parent(s) / grandmother / grandfather / aunt / uncle / sibling(s) / other / parents or guardians are deceased / none

SIBLING(S): sister(s) or brother(s) / half-sister(s) or half-brother(s) / step-sister(s) or step-brother(s) / none / other

RELATIONSHIP: single / crushing / dating / swinging / sex only / engaged / married / partnered / separated / divorced / it’s complicated / other

RELATIONSHIP ATTITUDE: happy / unhappy / it varies somewhat / it varies often / it's complicated / neutral / other

I HAVE A(N): learning disorder / personality disorder / mental disorder / anxiety disorder / sleep disorder / eating disorder / behavioral disorder / substance-related disorder / PTSD / mental disability / physical disability / none / other / in remission / present

THINGS I’VE DONE: drank alcohol / smoked cigarettes / stolen / done drugs / self-harmed / starved myself / lost my virginity / had a threesome / had a one-night stand / gotten into a fist fight / gone to the hospital / gone to jail / used a fake ID / played hooky / gone to a rave / killed someone / had someone try to kill me / been homeless

SOCIOECONOMIC STATUS: wealthy / well-off / moderate / struggling / poor / in poverty / other

MEDICAL: healthy / moderate / immunocompromised / disabled / disadvantaged / frequently sick / has a diagnosis / in-between / average / other

CLASS: upper / upper-middle / middle / working / slave / unsure / unknown / it varies / other

EDUCATION/INTELLECT: superior / above-average / qualified / unqualified / average / studying / street smarts / none / other

CRIMINAL RECORD: yes, for major crimes / yes, for minor crimes  / just a(n) traffic ticket(s) / restraining order(s) / other / none

CHILDREN: has children / has no children / has step-children / open to children / actively wants children / does not want children / children are deceased / currently trying for children / cannot have children / relationship with children is complicated / has adopted  or fostered children / wants to adopt or foster children / other

FAMILY OF ORIGIN RELATIONSHIPS: close with sibling(s) / not close with sibling(s) / has no siblings / siblings are deceased / separated from family / orphaned / adopted / disowned by parents / abandoned by father or mother / close with family / not close with family / other

TRAITS + TENDENCIES: extroverted / introverted / in between disorganized / organized / in between closed-minded / open-minded / in between calm / anxious / in between disagreeable / agreeable / in between cautious / reckless / in between patient / impatient / in between outspoken / reserved / in between leader / follower / in between empathetic / cold / in between optimistic / pessimistic / in between traditional / modern / in between hardworking / lazy / in between cultured / uncultured / in between loyal / disloyal / it depends faithful / unfaithful / it depends

RELIGION: monotheist / polytheist / atheist / agnostic / spiritual / other

BELIEF IN GHOSTS AND SPIRITS: yes / no / don’t know / maybe, it’s possible / don’t care / other

BELIEF IN AFTERLIFE: yes / no / don’t know / maybe, it’s possible / don’t care / other

BELIEF IN REINCARNATION: yes / no / don’t know / maybe, it’s possible / don’t care / other

BELIEF IN ALIENS: yes  / no / don’t know / maybe, it’s possible  / don’t care

PHILOSOPHICAL: yes / no / somewhat / other

PHYSICAL ABILITY: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

LITERACY: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

ART SKILLS: excellent / good / moderate / poor / good in some but not others / other / none

ART ABILITIES: painting / sculpture / writing / architecture / instrumental / singing / dance / theater / photography / film / other / none

TECHNICAL SKILLS: excellent / good / moderate / poor / depends / other / none

ALCOHOL: past - never / once / rarely / sometimes / frequently / to excess present - never / rarely / sometimes / frequently / to excess

NICOTINE: past - never / once / rarely / sometimes / frequently / to excess present - never / rarely / sometimes / frequently / to excess

WEED: past - never / once / rarely / sometimes / frequently / to excess present - never / rarely / sometimes / frequently / to excess

NARCOTICS: past - never / once / rarely / sometimes / frequently / to excess present - never / rarely / sometimes / frequently / to excess

HALLUCINOGENS: past - never / once / rarely / sometimes / frequently / to excess present - never / rarely / sometimes / frequently / to excess

PRESCRIBED MEDICATIONS: past / present / never / forever / none / other

#do not reblog #per chara study